Mirror bound
by LopendVuur
Summary: Working as an engineer is not an easy task for a young woman in Victorian London, but renting an apartment from a handsome inventor makes up for a lot. Together they buy a piece of folk-art, a mirror with a goat-like man looking out of it, and when one night Melissa finds the mirror empty, a whole series of magical adventures starts. A tale of different morals and a lot of love.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Have you ever fallen in love with a guy that you know is trouble, but that you cannot resist?

I always thought I was too smart to do that, but as it turns out I was the biggest fool of all. Not that he was a bad person, not at all, he was totally loveable, but trouble followed him wherever he went, still does. Let me tell you how I met him.

It was a beautiful spring day in the city, the stately trees in the street where I lived were budding, grass and flowers were springing up between the pavement and in the parks. The neighbourhood that I lived in was old-fashioned and just a little run down, but not yet shabby.

I rented a top-floor apartment from an inventor, a slightly elusive young man who used his basement to make innovative things, useful objects and beautiful as well, and made a good living out of that. Having just finished my studies and started working my first job I had my own money and some spare time, and I decided to go out and buy some stuff to brighten up my little house.

I had not lived in my apartment long, but I already had a secret fancy for my landlord, who, rumour stated, was from quite a respectable family, though one couldn't call his lifestyle exactly upper-class. He lived on the second floor of the same building, in what was, all things considered, not a prime neighbourhood.

In his basement, he experimented with steam and electricity, and a lot of cutting and welding, forging en fusing was always going on in there. When I first moved in, he had given me a tour and I was really impressed by his creations, made of cast iron and bronze and copper, with levers and gears and bolts everywhere. They were things of beauty, but with a function as well. Heaters for bathwater, pumps, fountains, you name it, he made it to order.

He was just testing a new boiler, and steam was coming out of all kinds of seams and openings, making a lot of noise. That still needed some work, he said. He had proudly shown me an apparatus which he called an electrostatic generator, glass disks that produced beautiful flashes of lightning with nothing but human power. His slim figure was shown to its advantage with an unbleached cotton shirt and sturdy linen pants. He wore high protective boots and a nicely tailored leather vest with bronze buttons and a chained watch in one of the many pockets.

I guessed him to be in his late twenties, his hair was brown and curly, and his face was slightly longish, with large, long-lashed grey eyes and a shapely, full lipped mouth. His nose was just the right size, and his jaws square despite his boyish looks. He had the distinct stubble of a man more interested in his work than in appearances. He smelled really nice, of smoke, and fuel, and something wholly male of his own. Unfortunately he didn't seem in the least bit interested in me as a woman, though he clearly liked to discuss modern technology with me.

In the following weeks we started to socialise a little, I invited him over for dinner a few times, and he did come and seemed to enjoy himself in my company. We talked about studying, city life, friends, family, modern architecture and of course, steam and electricity, and I found myself listening to him with sincere interest. He showed interest in my study and my work too, but he never seemed interested in me romantically.

He did tell me his first name was Paul, and I introduced myself as Melissa, because that is indeed my name. From that moment we were on first name basis and we kind of became friends. We visited concerts together, but still we didn't get intimate. I would so have loved for him to take the initiative, and if I had thought I had any chance with him I would have taken it, but I had no hope at all to be able to compete with those shiny machines that he seemed to have thrown away his family's prospects for. So I just forced myself to be satisfied with being friends, and hearing his secret hopes and dreams for a future of technology, instead of sweet compliments and tributes to my lovely physical assets.

Still I was happy, being useful in my work and having this nice apartment in a spacious modern building, with a nice landlord and neighbour who might be a bit noisy, but never complained about any noise I made either.

Going out as planned to get some ornaments for my place, I decided to go to a flea market a few blocks from my own house. I still like old stuff, with a history attached to it, but back then I couldn't really afford new things, I was still paying back a student loan to my patron. In an excellent mood, I skipped down the stairs, and after the first set I ran into Paul on the landing of the floor where he had his living area.

Despite our socialising, I had never been inside his personal apartment yet, we usually met in mine or in bars and pubs. 'Hey there beautiful', he said with a big smile, 'feeling the arrival of spring?' And I was, so I told him: 'I am indeed, I love to see green things again. You going out?'

He answered: 'I don't know yet. I heard you on the stairs and thought I'd ask where you are going and whether you'd like a companion.'

Suppressing a little thrill of excitement, I said: 'Sure I'd like to. I'm going to the flea market in fifth street, browsing for good stuff to decorate my apartment. Care to come?'

He answered: 'Yes please, let me get my wallet in case they have some copper or other metals to sell,' then disappeared into his apartment, to return a few minutes later.

And so we walked arm in arm to the flea market, enjoying the sunshine and the warm air. Birds were singing, and there were a lot of people about. I had a really good feeling about this trip, arm in arm with the man I secretly admired, chatting with him, touching him, catching a hint of his exciting scent every once in a while.

Soon we reached the market, and it was nice and large. After a long, cold winter, a lot of merchants had chosen this first really warm day to try and make some money, and they had set up their booths on the fifth street square. The market was busy with people negotiating deals, some already carrying their purchases. Boys with hand-carts were waiting to make a few pennies carting the larger stuff to people's homes, and a stray dog was checking out the street to see if someone had left something edible lying about.

The buildings around us were quite tall, at least three stories like Paul's house, but the square was sizeable and the sun was at its highest, so there were some sunny patches amongst the stalls, giving the market a very pleasant atmosphere.

I looked at Paul, thrilled that he had sought my companionship, apparently radiating some of my excellent spirits, for he looked at me in amusement and asked: 'Where do you want to start?' 'Right here,' I answered, and I proceeded to the nearest booth to check out its contents. Together we browsed a lot of stalls, he bought a few pieces of brass and copper, ugly ornaments mostly that he made a stiff bargain for. I knew he'd melt it down for its metal content, so I didn't tease him with having bad taste. He'd make beautiful and useful things out of the purified metals.

I did wonder how he managed to carry all that weight around the market, for he must have had quite a few pounds to lug around already. Quite probably he was a lot stronger than he looked, physically demanding work does that to people.

My mind started to imagine him bare-chested, working the bellows to heat his furnace, muscles rippling under his sooted skin. Too bad my common sense decided not to go there, stopping the thought short. My common sense was very much in charge of things then, but unbeknownst to me, events were already unfolding to change that.

I had picked up some little knick-knacks myself, an embroidered cushion, a nice lamp, a colourful rug. Paul called over one of the boys with a hand-cart, and he was clearly glad to unload his trophies on the cart. I added mine to the total, and we paid the boy a little extra to guard our stuff whilst we continued browsing. My excitement over this trip was quieted down a little by now, having already found some of the things I wanted. I was feeling quite satisfied so far, but still eager to see more and buy more.

First of all, Paul decided he wanted to get something to eat at one of the regular stalls, one that sold sausages with fried potatoes. As we were a few hours further into the day, I immediately agreed to let him treat me to his favourite fast food. We sat down on a bench at one of the long tables, enjoying a beer. The service was quick despite there being quite a lot of customers, and we soon got our servings. Paul was not wrong to be a regular here, this was good food, especially for a guy working really hard in a forge all day, for me the portion was quite large, I'm not a type that can eat limitlessly.

But Paul didn't mind finishing my portion as well as his own. I had been amazed before at the amount of food he could process without getting any fatter but I guess his body worked differently from mine.

That reminds me, I didn't tell you about myself yet: I was, and am still, quite tall, and certainly not skinny. My figure is very feminine, with ample roundings and quite enough cleavage to make men check me out a lot.

I never enjoyed wearing dresses, feeling uncomfortable with being judged on appearance instead of personality and merit, so I usually wore a long skirt with a bodice, or a women's suit, or even lady's trousers. This may also have had to do with my profession, having studied to be an engineer I was usually in the company of men, and I found that with my luscious body, wearing dresses tended to distract men, make them take me less seriously. A suit gives a business-like air, and when I finished my studies I successfully applied for job as an independent building inspector for the city council, wearing a suit, so I stuck to the practice.

I have some lovely dresses, but I save them for special occasions, when turning every man's head and most women's is an advantage. To complete my picture, my hair is coppery brown, slightly wavy and very long, but I usually keep it confined in a braid or even put up. My complexion is very light, I tend to burn quickly in the full sun, and I'm always battling a few freckles on my nose.

But now, back to the market, for Paul had finished my potatoes as well as his own, and we were ready to continue our shopping spree.

Several of the booths were taken by merchants that I had not seen before, which made them especially interesting. In one of these stalls, occupied by a creepy looking fellow with stringy black hair and a likewise beard, I saw a piece of folk art that immediately drew my attention.

It was a depiction of a mirror framed in a living branch. And out of that mirror came the head and one hand of a man with a rather narrow face and some decidedly goat-like features, like an impressive set of he-goat's horns, a deeply dented lip and pointed ears, as if a man were changing into a goat and the development stopped not even half-way. His nose was quite long and his eyes were set a bit high for a man's.

It was a slightly disturbing work, but I fell in love with it instantly. Paul noticed my interest, and sarcastically said: 'You know he-goats are known for their randiness, don't you?' Of course I must have looked like a fool, for one moment I thought he had seen right through me, had read my lustful thoughts about him from my posture, maybe straight from my mind.

The merchant, eager to make a sale, used my moment of stunned silence to get a word in: 'Beautiful paper-maché folk art, misses, and only a tenner. That is practically for free.' That was way cheaper than I expected, and the figure seemed to encourage me to take him with me.

Next to me, Paul laid a hand on my arm in a familiar way and looked at me disapprovingly. The merchant quickly said: 'Eight pounds, that is my final offer.' I did wonder why Paul was so set against my buying it, but I told the man: 'Sold!'

After buying the goat-man I was ready to return to my apartment, and asked Paul: 'Shall we go home? And why were you so set against my buying this?' He laughed and said: 'I wasn't, that guy thought we were a married couple, so I pretended to thoroughly dislike it so you'd get it for as little as he would sell it for.'

Of course the logic of that statement was clear to me immediately, so I told him: 'You're really smart, and subtle, I never even noticed that. Thank you.' He looked at the thing thoughtfully and even touched it briefly, then stated: 'It feels vaguely sentient, I have a certain sensibility to magic. I hope I won't regret helping you buy it.'

I did not understand that last remark, why would he regret something I bought? But he mentioned another word that sounded positively ridiculous to me: 'Magic?,' I cried, 'this piece of painted paper? You're not serious!' By this time, we had reached the cart with the rest of our purchases, and after laying our latest buys carefully on top of the others, we set off for home, the boy following with the cart.

Back home, we shared the cost of the cart, and after taking his metals into his basement, Paul helped me take my stuff upstairs, and even find a nice place for everything. We saved the goatish man for last, and decided to place him over my small hearth. With a big iron hammer from his workshop Paul drove a nail into the wall of his house, and hung the mirror-like piece on it. Taking a few steps back to admire his handiwork he said: 'Nice and straight. Seeing him here I think he suits your place, he looks well on your wall and he'll feel safe here.'

Again, I had a feeling he knew more than he let on, more about this work of art and more about me. I must admit I felt a bit disconcerted, I regarded him as a down-to-earth craftsman, a gifted craftsman surely, even an artist, but not a spiritual person. But now he seemed to see right through me. 'You are so silent, aren't you pleased with the new man in your life?' he asked when I just stood there, looking at him in surprise and yes, even dismay.

Shaking the feeling of another world touching mine, I looked about my room with its new inhabitant, and I was more than pleased, I was thrilled. This was the piece I had in mind when I set out this afternoon, a real focal point, and just quirky enough. So I let all my satisfaction resound in my voice as I replied: 'Yes, I am very happy with him. He looks right at home here, as you said. Thank you for your help.'

Still I couldn't help feeling that he knew I had a crush on him and wanted to let me know he did. Not wanting to show my disturbance I asked him: 'Will you stay for dinner?'

His reply startled me again: 'I don't think so. I think it's time I made dinner for you, in my place. Let him get used to the place on his own'. The last remark was made looking at my new piece of art, which he seemed to almost regard as a real person.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I went with him to his apartment one floor down, and had no idea what to expect behind that door. Would it be a bachelor's pad, with just a bed and a bare table? Or would it be stuffed with his family's heirlooms? Not much chance! Maybe a stylish ensemble with elegant minimalistic furniture? I had no clue, though I expected it to be in good taste, for his beautiful creations nearly demanded his home to be as beautiful.

But the reality was even beyond that. His apartment, as humble from the outside as my own, turned out to be a Gothic palace from the inside. The door didn't open on a hall with a living-room and several bedrooms leading from it, but on a kind of gallery made of wrought iron ornamented with bronze floral elements, offering a view on a large living-room one floor down.

I realized that he had two floors, my apartment being on the third floor and his workshop in the basement. Standing by the railing I saw a winding stairs, again wrought iron with bronze ornamentation, this time with reptilian creatures writhing down the railing and even through the steps. Dragons!

The walls were mostly wood panelling inlaid with a mosaic of differently coloured woods. His vide had an enormous Gothic chandelier hanging over it, suspended from a stark white ceiling.

Paul was observing my reaction to his little surprise with amusement. Of course no-one could enter here without staring in wonderment. At last he broke the silence: 'This is why you are my first visitor in a long time, it takes ages to get to the kitchen the first time I let someone in.' I still had no words for what I saw, just a pressing need to see the rest of it, all of it.

I followed him down the stairs, into the living area. The wood panelling was replaced by row upon row of bookshelves, stuffed with books of all shapes and sizes and ages. There was a sitting area with comfortable chairs and even a sofa of soft fabric in a corner of the large room, where the ceiling was decidedly lower. And there was a slim and elegant wooden desk. The floor was wood mosaic again, with deep red Persian rugs here and there.

There was no dining table, and the space, though really high in the middle, was not wide, but it did seem larger than my apartment. As if he could read my mind, again, Paul explained: 'There are no bedrooms on this floor, just the kitchen. The bedrooms are one floor up, where the ceiling is lower. Will you come and sit in the kitchen? I'll make us dinner.'

The kitchen was the most beautiful place yet. Its ceiling was lower than the living area, but all the cupboards were made of wood ornamented with copper silhouettes of flying dragons. There was a beautiful copper boiler, not hidden away but in plain sight. The sink was also copper, set in a beautiful piece of hardwood. The dining table was set up here, with four light chairs. The table had no cloth, but was polished to a high sheen.

Light came in from a window, opening up to the inner garden of our block of houses. I was stunned, not able to say a word. Coming from a lower class family, able to study only with the patronage of my parents' employer, I had never in my life seen such riches. It wasn't gaudy, and I knew he had almost certainly made every piece of metalwork himself, but the value of everything in this house was way beyond my experience. I was overwhelmed.

He led me towards one of the chairs, seemingly too fragile to sit on, but he assured me they were a lot stronger than they looked, and encouraged me to sit down. Then he moved one of the chairs close to mine and sat right next to me, laid his hand on mine and told me: 'I take it you approve?' Now I finally found my voice: 'It is beyond words. I've never seen something so beautiful. All the work you've put in, the materials, the style.'

He closed his hand over my hand, and said: 'Thank you. Do you want tea, or a glass of wine?' I opted for the tea, with all the strange things that had been happening I preferred to keep my wits about me, though alcohol generally didn't affect me strongly.

Paul didn't put on a kettle, but used a little tap that was part of the large boiler to pour steaming hot water into an old-fashioned china teapot. He measured out tea and put it to steep. Then he started busying himself peeling and slicing various vegetables, and he took what appeared to be noodles out of a cupboard. I offered to help, but he asked me to just watch him work and maybe pour myself and him some tea.

He had a strange way of making dinner, immersing the noodles very shortly in more steaming water from the beautiful boiler, then draining them in a sieve. He cut up the various vegetables very finely, as well as some white meat, poultry I guessed. Then he fried it in a large copper pan, over a high fire, in oil instead of butter. Several spices from little jars went in and then it was all ready.

I was amazed, again. And it tasted fabulously, light and savoury after the heavy meal of the afternoon. The combination with the smoky tea was also excellent. I realized that fried potatoes were not his staple diet, that this was what he usually ate. No wonder he was so thin.

With the food finished, he graciously allowed me to help him wash the dishes, not that there was much to clean. After that, he made a pot of a different tea, and invited me to sit in the living area, bringing the pot of tea, along with some chocolates.

Sitting on the soft sofa with Paul, looking about me, I realized why he didn't seem to have an inclination to become intimate with me. It was very clear to me now that whilst he seemed to be a normal craftsman, working hard and renting out an apartment to a working class girl to make ends meet, socialising with me in this non-fashionable part of town, he was in fact a member of a much higher social circle.

I was way beneath him, and certainly not the kind of woman his class preferred, with a paying job in a man's domain, dressed more like a man than a woman, voicing opinions like a man. I had let my fancy once again get the better of me, but my common sense did allow me that he hid his true colours really well. I couldn't have known he was this upper-class.

Paul, sitting next to me on the sofa, had again been studying me whilst my thoughts were dragging me down to my own level. He was very good at not speaking, letting silences fall where they would.

When he spoke, it was in a low voice: 'You are awfully quiet tonight, Melissa, I don't know you like this at all.' I pride myself on always controlling my emotions, and whilst I did not show any unseemly signs of my disappointment, it did make me reply with more truth than propriety.

'I am, I am much more silent than usual. Seeing this has made me realize that I have been a great fool. Since I have moved in and we have started socialising, I've allowed myself certain feelings towards you. You are very attractive, and we share a lot of interests.

I know you have not encouraged me in any of this, and I hope I have not shown my preference in any way that might be embarrassing to you or to myself. But this afternoon you said some things that made me realize you might not be exactly what you seemed to me, an artist and a craftsman making beautiful objects through hard messy work. And seeing all this, I suddenly realized you are way above me. A gentleman.'

I still wasn't crying, and I wouldn't, but I was sadly disappointed and suddenly afraid to lose a good friend because of my admission. I should have kept quiet and overcome my infatuation in secret, safeguarding our friendship above all.

And again, Paul didn't say a thing whilst I was controlling my feelings in silence. He just sat there, his expression thoughtful but friendly, and not condescending, which I was afraid of most of all. He moved close to me, really close, and put an arm around me. I could smell him, as exciting as ever, the smell of the craftsman I admired, the smoke, the cleaning agents used to improve adhesion between the metals, his own smell.

The familiarity of it, and his touch, had a calming effect on me. He waited until I was myself again, and by then I, secretly enjoying his closeness, was even able to discern signs of enjoyment of our closeness in him. A slight pressure of his body against mine, his head leaning the tiniest bit on my shoulder, his face in my hair, did he just take in a deeper breath to smell it? It did certainly seem that way.

Then he confirmed my suspicions by kissing my hair, slowly, not stealing a kiss but giving it to me. And still sitting so close to me he said the following: 'You did not become friends with a personality I play. That is the real me. The craftsman you are attracted to really exists, and he is sitting right next to you. I rarely let people into my home, because it usually gives a totally wrong impression of me.

I was born in a high class, but I have left it voluntarily because I see no class. To me, you are not lower in any way. My home is the culmination of my art, I have made every inch of it myself, even the cast iron, even the woodwork. All of it. Though I did have some help with the sofa we're sitting on. Are you comfortable?'

I sure was, even though I still felt foolish for confessing I had a crush on him. But sitting so close to him I regretted it a lot less, it felt so good. I only nodded, knowing that would be enough answer for him, daring to settle even more comfortably against his solid body. How I'd love to feel that..stop! My common sense was losing ground fast. Fortunately he spoke up again, halting my lustful thoughts.

'Melissa, I had to show you this, but in a way it was too early for you. It has made you doubt me, doubt yourself, and you will have to trust both of us in the coming period. You may have realized by now I don't need to lease my top floor. I get by really well without the rent you pay.

You live here, because you have a talent that will soon show itself, and when it does, it will need training and you will need guidance and protection. I am a so-called guardian, I can see and manipulate magical energy, and I use it to protect this part of the city and its inhabitants, human or other. It is an innate talent, one cannot stop it from surfacing.

The power a guardian has attracts predators, making an untrained guardian an easy target and almost certain to meet a painful and messy end.' Here he stopped talking to look at me inquisitively, I guess he wanted to see whether I believed him. He looked almost anxious, as if that were very important to him.

So I looked him in the eye and spoke my thought: 'And I'm a guardian too?' He replied: 'Can you believe that?' Again, the truth: 'I did have a feeling this afternoon that there was more to you than meets the eye. Seeing this', I tried to encompass the whole house in one gesture, 'I thought it was stature, but now I realize it is spiritual.

You have certain powers, picking up my romantic thoughts about you from the first, seeing something in that folk art piece I bought, something sentient.'

I must have said the right thing, for he looked relieved. He said: 'I'm glad you believe me. Once the guardians become aware of a talent, they appoint a mentor to guide him or her through the awakening of their powers and to protect and train them.

Though I may seem a bit young, being not that much older than your twenty years, I was raised by a family where guardianship is hereditary, so I've been trained since childhood. I am well able to mentor you and guard you.

Usually we take time to ease our pupils into the guardianship, but your awareness of the goat-man was an indication that your talent is stirring. That in turn meant you needed to know about this place. It is a sanctuary, impenetrable by evil magic, protected by layer upon layer of spells. You will always be welcome here and you will always be safe here.

But there is one more thing you need to know: I did know your feelings, and though I have not encouraged your attraction to me, it is mutual. I could easily fall in love with you, but I have not allowed myself to do so as yet.

For I know you will change as your talent develops, and your love for me may not survive that process. That would break my heart, and it is difficult to teach someone who has broken your heart. Therefore I must beg you to be patient, to first let me help you discover your talent, become one of us. And if you still feel the same about me once your power is totally awakened, I promise I will love you as much as you could ever wish for.'

This was quite a lot to take in. So he wanted to love me back but dared not for fear of being hurt. That seemed sensible in one way, but how could one decide to not love someone? Since he did say he was attracted to me I felt free to follow my feelings and hug him really closely.

I would have liked to kiss him but I didn't have any experience at all with loving, and I supposed at his age and with his looks he would have. Understanding his reasons to not want to become intimate yet, trying to kiss him in a fumbling way would have been embarrassing in the extreme.

And besides, me, magical powers? I just couldn't imagine that, nor that I could have him within reach and still choose another. But knowing my infatuation was at least not hopeless, I decided to wait and see.

He fished something from one of the many pockets of his vest, and handed it to me. It was a key. 'The key to this sanctuary. Whenever you need me, come to me or call out for me. I will find you.' Looking me straight in the eye, he said forcefully: 'Even if you have done something that you are ashamed of, or that might hurt me to know. Don't hesitate, or you will be in danger and that will hurt me more.'

It is as if he had an suspicion what would happen, and already expected to suffer great emotional pain because of my actions. I decided there and then not to let him down, to be as resolute as he was and face whatever would be coming.

He came with me to my door, and we held each other one more time, as if we were not going to see one another for weeks. Which just wasn't true. He said: 'I'll see you tomorrow at eleven, first lesson even though it's your day off.' I didn't say anything in return, but just held him shamelessly, memorising the feel of his muscled body, and the smell of his skin. I ran my hands through his hair, having wondered for weeks what that would feel like.

How could I ever not love this gorgeous sweet man, I could not for the life of me imagine it. But I could easily survive a few weeks of just working together, I was sure of that, so I gave him a chaste goodnight kiss, and opened my door. He left.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Back inside I decided to not take a shower, but go right to bed instead. That way some of his touch and his feel and smell might still cling to me, to help me go to sleep after this intense day. Taking one last look at my new decoration, I went to bed in quite a flutter.

The man I had been dreaming of since I met him returned my feelings! I fell asleep more quickly that I'd believed possible, probably dreaming about him a bit more and hopefully not of evil things hunting me down and devouring me for my as yet dormant magic.

Until I sat up straight in my bed, suddenly wide awake, for I had heard a strange noise in my living-room. It took just a few moments to gather the courage to get out of bed and check out the room. After all, what was going to pass those protections on this house? Paul had told me it was absolutely safe.

Slipping on a dressing gown I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. Then I quietly moved towards my living-room, alert but not really afraid. I opened the door in total silence, and came into an apparently empty room. Checking the room, I found the space above the hearth empty, and the mirror-like shape lying on the floor. Picking it up, I noticed that the goat-like figure was gone, not leaving a surface of torn paper, but just an empty mirror.

That was decidedly weird. Feeling a bit ridiculous, glad no-one could see me, I put the empty mirror on the table, and started to search the room quietly, listening carefully for any sound a goat-man might make in my living-room.

And indeed I did hear him before I saw him, a small sound of something hard briefly touching metal. Moving towards the metal hearth I never feared an attack, somehow the creature had given me the impression of being harmless despite its fearsome horns. I found it hiding in an incredibly small space behind the hearth.

How it had managed to get in there I don't know, but if it hadn't accidentally struck the hearth with one of its large curved horns, I would not have spotted it. All I could see was a bit of horn and some mottled skin, crossed with angry red welts, some of which were bleeding. I was nearly overcome with pity for this wretched creature, for when I touched its skin, stroking it as one would a scared dog or cat, it cringed and I felt it shake.

Also, I felt ribs and bones sticking out everywhere. Deciding to stick to the scared dog or cat tactic, I talked soothingly, stroked it, promising food and a nice warm blanket. The shaking did stop, and the creature seemed to enjoy my gentle stroking, for it got a tiny bit larger, and more horn appeared. It did not trust me enough to come out though, and I couldn't deduce from its actions whether it was intelligent and could understand speech or not.

In a last effort to convince it before I'd get some food to tempt it out, I held out my arms and called: 'Come on then!' This had an immediate effect. Within a fraction of a second I was nearly bowled over by an armful of mottled skin, arms and legs. And horns. The creature didn't try to lick me as a dog would, it rather settled in my arms as a child would. It had a decidedly musky scent, not unappealing, just rather strong and very enticing.

It was really, really thin, skin over bones, and I felt the sticky blood covering the fresh welts. Now the horns moved, and a face looked up at me. It was the face with the goat-like features of the work of art I bought, now animated.

It looked at me mostly trustingly, but with a little flicker of suspicion still in its eyes. I said soothingly I wasn't going to harm it, to not be afraid of me. In response, a hand came out of the collection of bones and skin, and touched my face. It was quite a large hand, and well-shaped, though it did seem divided in two somehow, reminding me of a cloven hoof.

I took it in mine, to show I meant no harm. Sitting hunched was becoming painful to me, so I warned the creature I was going to move and I stood up, still holding its hand. It stood up with me and to my surprise I noticed it was at least as tall as me, only a lot thinner. And he was most definitely male, for his naked body was ornamented with a rather large and well-formed penis.

Now I had him standing, I had to decide what to do with him. The wounds needed to be looked at, he needed food and drink badly, and something to keep him warm, for he was still shivering. I decided to try communication first: looking straight at him, I said: 'Hello, I'm Melissa.'

He clearly didn't understand so I used my hands to explain, pointing at myself and saying: 'Melissa'. Now he understood, and he pointed at himself and said: 'Lykos'.

He had a nice voice, much deeper than you'd expect from such a slight creature. Trying to pronounce his name as he said it was really hard, my efforts at which he apparently thought quite funny, smiling broadly, revealing perfectly normal teeth under his deeply dented upper lip. Combined with the horns that lip made his face quite goat-like, but also very appealing in a roguish way.

I asked him: 'May I call you Lukas instead?' He pointed at himself again and said: 'Lukas?' Now it was my turn to smile broadly, this clearly was a smart guy. His reaction to my smile was extraordinary, he sort of launched himself at me again, making me hold him as a natural reaction. This seemed to please him, and he blissfully surrendered to my embrace, leaning into me with a very slight weight, resting his horned head on my shoulder.

We stood like that for a while, until his bony body and the sticky feeling of the blood still running from the welts on his back started to bother me. I tried to get his attention again, but he seemed to be almost sleeping so I spoke up: 'Lukas, do you want something to eat?'

My voice and the name he had adopted got his attention, and he looked at me again. I pointed at him and then at my mouth. He suddenly became eager, probably realising he was very hungry. I took him into the kitchen and showed him the things I had there, some bread, some cheese, a few apples.

He nodded, apparently able to digest them, so I took all of it to the table with a plate and a knife, glad I wouldn't have to go out in the dark to pluck dandelions for him to eat. He followed me like a puppy, and at my gesture sat down on one of my chairs, on the tip so he'd not stick to the backrest with the bloody welts.

Then his eye fell on the mirror, and he jumped up and seem to panic. A string of flowing words came out of him, and realising I couldn't understand them he gestured that I should wrap the mirror up in cloth and put it away face down. I quickly fetched some fabric, but that was clearly not good enough. He pointed at several objects in the room, but it took me a while to deduce that the cloth needed to be black. So I checked my clothes and found a black skirt, which I used to wrap the mirror in, and I put it away face down in the farthest corner.

Now he sat down and ate, carefully, apparently knowing he'd be sick if he ate too much or too fast. All too soon he stopped, gesturing he shouldn't eat more. I put the stuff on the cupboard, available to him at all times. He needed to eat small meals often to get used to food again. I also put out some clean water and a glass, of which he made good use.

Then I pointed at his back, and went into the kitchen to fetch a bowl of water and a clean cloth. With it, I carefully cleaned out the welts, sorry for the grimace of pain my treatment caused him. He had some cuts on his head as well, which I also cleaned carefully. When I was done I gave him an old shirt to wear, much too large but nice and warm, and it would protect the welts from getting dirty.

Now his three main needs were met, I showed him the sanitary facilities, which he gladly used right in front of me. It was clear he had no body modesty at all, something I was going to get used to really quickly, though I didn't know that yet. Now I looked at him questioningly to see what else he might want, and he looked so forlorn, so emaciated, abused and well, lonely, I decided to take him to bed with me.

I went to the bedroom, pointed at the bed and got in, covering myself with the blanket. With a look to make sure I approved, he crawled in beside me, snuggled up to me with his whole body and wrapped his skinny arms around me. He clearly enjoyed the feel of my soft warm body very much. And to be honest, I felt really good as well, feeling him relax against me, giving in to his weariness and falling into a deep, deep sleep at my side.

I started to realize that Paul had known this would happen as soon as he saw the work of art, and that this might be part of one of those tests he mentioned. Well, I was not going to put a helpless creature out in the state this guy was in. It was clear he was a thinking, feeling being, and I was going to help him either to go home or to find a place in our world. And with that thought I fell asleep myself, and this time I didn't dream.

The next morning, it was already light outside, I woke up disoriented. Did that really happen, did I really find a goat-like man behind my hearth, or was it a weird dream? Feeling arms still around me, and a body pressed close to mine, smelling his musky scent, I realized it was all real.

And I felt something else, and though still a virgin I immediately understood what it meant: Lukas was carefully trying to penetrate me with his rather large penis, and he was almost successful! To be honest, it felt very exiting, a hotness sprang up between my legs and all my nerves screamed to let him continue.

But I was also a virgin and my own person, and no-one was going to deflower me so casually, without even asking my consent. So I turned on him in an instant, shouting: 'Just what do you think you're doing!' right in his face, still set in a blissful sleepy expression. I saw him wake up, register my sudden move, my intense anger.

And then I saw him cringe as if I'd hit him, and he rolled out of the bed and under it in an instant, the instinctive reaction of someone used to maltreatment. Though I felt justified in my reaction, I was also sorry to have scared him so badly that he fled, he was very sleepy after all, and had clearly been abused. For a moment I didn't know what to do.

But the thought of that vulnerable, maltreated young creature shaking in fear under my bed just wrung my heart. So I got out, sat down on the floor and looked under the bed. He was there, curled up in protective ball, a pitiful sight, his back towards me. I noticed he had a cute perky tail.

Soothingly I said: 'Lukas, I'm sorry I reacted so strongly, I've just never done that before, I'm still a virgin. In my culture you can't just insert yourself into a woman, you have to ask first. Please Lukas, stop shaking, come to me.' Those words seemed to have a magical effect again, for within a second he was in my lap again, curled up, head on my shoulder.

'Lukas, look at me' I said. And he did, his anxiety still clear in every feature of his face, looking at me in desperation. 'You have no idea what made me mad, do you?' I asked him. He understood from my soothing tone I was not really angry anymore, but how to make it clear that I was not an object, to be used at will?

Of course he must have had an idea what made me mad, he was obviously an intelligent man. He now looked at me questioningly, and said something in a beautiful language that I didn't understand a single word of. But it sounded apologetic, which was good. We had to rely on gesturing again to communicate. I tried to gesture that he had to ask before he did that. And it seemed he understood.

Apparently his need was enormous, for where a man would have taken my actions as an absolute refusal, he proceeded to gesture his request to me, to be allowed to make love to me. Or maybe he just wanted to penetrate me, I couldn't know, the gestures weren't that specific, and I certainly had no experience with lovemaking, I was a virgin after all.

His need must have been very great to go from shivering in fear to politely asking if he could take me within a few minutes. I remembered Paul's comment on the randiness of goats, and decided he probably needed sex as we need food. And the strange thing was, I wanted him to do it. I was twenty years old and I had never had a man, and it felt so good, and so careful when he tried. Besides, Paul had made it clear that was not going to risk getting involved for some time yet. So I gestured my consent, and we sat back on the bed.

I tried to convey that I had never done this before, and I think he understood for he became even more loving and more careful. It never occurred to me that our wordless communication was too perfect, too easy to be just gestures. But that is something I would find out later. For now, I let a total stranger with horns give me my first experience with lovemaking.

He did immediately penetrate me, but really carefully so it wouldn't hurt me. And it didn't, it was glorious! I became so hot inside, it felt so good I wanted him to move, to thrust deeper and deeper inside me, moving along with him to stimulate him. The musk of his scent enveloped me totally, adding to the experience. He clearly enjoyed my enthusiasm, kissing me on the mouth, also my first time.

My passion rose still further, and after what seemed a long time of increasing elation I felt a wave of little shocks taking over my body, a blissful release. Suddenly they were gone, but the heat wasn't gone at all, I wanted this to last forever.

Realising again how frightfully thin my lover was, I was suddenly afraid this exercise would be too much for him, but instead of draining him it seemed to give him energy. All this time, he had been keeping contact with me, with a look, a kiss, but now his thrusting increased, and his expression became focussed inward.

It was glorious how he managed to reach some nearly electric places inside me, and I had one of those high points again. Then he collapsed on top of me, which scared me at first. But when I saw him smile at me cheekily I realized this was supposed to happen. His shape on top of me felt good, though I couldn't help wondering how someone so emaciated could have so much energy.

I enclosed him in my arms, wanting to to stay connected, touching him wherever I could. For a few moments, he was lying still, happy but totally out of breath. Then he looked up at me again, his cute face already familiar, even with the horns.

Having no experience with making love, I was not surprised that as soon as he had caught his breath again, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, then moved down to kneel between my legs. He made a bit more space for himself by spreading them with his hands, a very exiting gesture in itself. Then he caressed my ruddy pubic hair and carefully took hold of my labia, then spread them as well.

This flared up the heat in me again, and I wanted him to do everything all over again, but he had other plans. Instead of entering me, he applied a very nimble tongue to a very sensitive spot, which was even more stimulating than anything he had done before. Taking his time, he brought me to another of those highs, but this one felt different, lingering. As soon as he had felt me reaching that high, he was on top of me again in a second, penetrating me but not at all carefully this time.

The combination of that climax with this relatively forceful entrance was ecstatic. He kept me in a constant state of passion now, again pumping away but less frantically, and with more force. I couldn't imagine how a man could keep a woman in such a state of ecstasy for what seemed to be such a long time.

He looked as if he was the same passionate state, still moving slowly and deeply, constantly watching me, talking to me with his eyes and his facial expression. When he started to show signs of rising tension again, I invited him to kiss me again, and doubly connected he reached another high, with me sharing his intense feeling through our kiss. This time, he really was spent, again collapsing on top of me and staying in my arms for a long time. I was totally relaxed by now, feeling a strong bond with the strange creature heaving on my chest, totally enveloped by my arms.

He was nearly asleep, no longer out of breath, looking almost like a child with his rakish narrow face. I stroked his hairless head, and his body with its mottled skin. He had removed the shirt at some point, so I pulled the blanket over both of us to prevent him from getting cold.

The welts on his back were no longer sticky, so I had good hope they had closed up during the night. Instead of thinking about the weirdness of all this, I let myself drift off to sleep again too until I realized I had an appointment for magic instruction from Paul at eleven. And then it struck me. This is what he had been afraid of all along.

He knew what would come out of that mirror, and he knew what it would do to or with me. I felt a flash of guilt and loathed myself for forgetting about him so easily, after dreaming of him for weeks, and holding him so intensely only the previous night.

But when I thought of his curly hair, of his muscled body and his exciting smell, I immediately saw myself doing the things I had discovered today with him. It was confusing and encouraging at the same time. I did still love him, wanted to try out lovemaking with him as well. But what if he would stick to his plan of waiting until I had mastered magic, he seemed someone who'd do that once his mind was made up.

Having discovered physical love I knew I'd want more soon, and I realized it was almost inevitable that Lukas and I would become lovers, but what would that do to Paul? I couldn't find a solution, so I decided to see what happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I carefully eased myself from under Lukas, washed, dressed and prepared a nice suitable breakfast for a starving young man. Then I woke him by softly caressing him again, noticing to my incredible surprise that he had hoofs instead of feet. How come I hadn't seen that before? I took hold of one and carefully examined it.

It was elegantly shaped, of solid horn, but slightly too long. It needed trimming, small wonder with his other signs of neglect and abuse. I wondered where he had come from, and why he had been treated so badly there. It would be long before we could communicate well enough to find out. But by now my creature had woken up, and the smell of food clearly enticed him.

I gave him the t-shirt back, and he put it on. He ate more than the evening before, but he was clearly still limiting his intake to prevent getting sick. Apparently not used to drinking hot black tea, he carefully sipped his and seemed to like it. I checked the clock and found I had an hour left until my lesson and facing Paul after what I'd done.

Strangely enough, I didn't feel ashamed, somehow I realized that what I had done with Lukas was a natural consequence of having bought the mirror. I didn't think I could have refused to have sex with Lukas, I was starting to comprehend it was as necessary as food to him. I also suspected he would just as easily have sex with another woman, also without asking first.

Maybe my test would be to teach him about the morals of our society, and finding a way to fit him into our society, though I doubted that would ever be possible. He was so different, how could one disguise a pair of horns that size, let alone hoofs and a tail?

Having finished his food, Lukas was still sipping his tea and he was looking at me. He didn't look forlorn anymore, maybe a bit of food and a bit of love was all he needed. But somehow I doubted that, he seemed too intelligent to live a life as simple as that.

Now I needed to find out what I was supposed to do with him. And I needed to explain to him that I was going away for an hour or two. For that, I needed to be able to communicate with him, which wouldn't be easy.

But it turned out to be a lot easier than I thought it would be. As I had to leave him soon, I started with pointing at myself, then at the door, and at him, still where he was. At the same time, I told him in simple English. As he answered in his own flowing language, in my mind I got a clear reply: I was going away for a while, and he could stay here. And he was sorry he had tried make love with me still half asleep. And for not realising I was still a virgin.

And love was indeed food to him, and he had been starved from it on purpose by someone, partly explaining the abominable condition his body was in. He felt much better now, and very grateful for the incredible gift of my pureness.

All right, this was weird. He spoke his own flowing language, but the meaning of his words came straight into my mind. So I said: 'You make me wish I didn't have to leave you, there is so much to speak of. But we can do that when I'm back. I'm still a bit disconcerted that you would have taken me without asking, but you sure made up for it, I still feel you inside me.'

He came towards me and knelt before me, laying his horned head in my lap, as if asking for forgiveness. This was such an engaging gesture that I couldn't resist him, I stroked his head, hoping he'd look up and kiss me. And he promptly did, sitting on my lap with his bare legs, his member still hanging free. The burning feeling inside me intensified, and I felt his excitement against me quite clearly, but I was not going to let Paul down on day one of my training already.

So I told him: 'You can eat as much of the food as you like, I'll get new stuff this afternoon. Let me know what you need to eat to gain strength. Do you want a pair of trousers?

His answer came swiftly: 'I will eat some more, and sleep some more. If you want me to wear clothes I will. And my hoofs need trimming, maybe you can get a tool somewhere? A file or a sharp knife?' I nodded, certain I could borrow both from Paul.

I had decided to be totally honest with Paul, I was going to need his help to see this through, and I wanted to be able to look him in the eye always, to be worthy of his love and respect. With this thought, I gave my mottled creature one last, lengthy hug, feeling his bony frame against mine, smelling his strong, musky scent. Then I told him: 'I'll be downstairs,' and I left.

Walking down the stairs I felt totally unsure what to do. In desperation, I decided to just go in and see what happened. I had some questions I would love to ask Paul, but I'd have a lot to explain first, things he might not want to hear.

Reaching his door, I knocked on it quite loudly since he might be in his kitchen. But there was no answer. I considered using the key to open the door, but before I could act I heard his voice from downstairs, calling me: 'Melissa, I'm in the workshop, will you join me here?'

So I descended two more stairs and entered the basement. Paul was in his working clothes, polishing one of his current projects, nearly completed. It was a lovely elegant copper boiler, richly engraved with hunting scenes.

I had seen its development in the time I lived here, and it was amazing to see it now in its full glory. Paul was clearly very proud of it, and glad to show it to me.

Let me picture his workshop, to me it was the best place to be on this world, even above my own apartment. It occupied the whole basement, one large space with stone columns to support the house above it.

The walls were red brick, and there were sturdy wooden cabinets against most of them. One really large cabinet held little drawers, to store his smaller tools and his spare parts. The larger tools were suspended on hooks on the wall, each in its own place.

There was a large brick furnace, built against the outer wall to allow easy venting. And there were creations in different stages of completion everywhere, on tables, on the ground, hanging from the ceiling, standing against the columns.

In this little corner of paradise Paul was totally himself. I fell in love with him all over again, seeing him in his sooty shirt, his old shabby pants and his leather apron covering both. He wore the same sturdy boots as yesterday, but an older, worn pair.

I couldn't help myself, I just had to stride towards him and give him a solid hug and a kiss on the mouth. I secretly breathed in deeply, catching the usual mixture of smoke, etching fluid and male sweat. It was just as exciting as ever. Paul returned my hug, and accepted my kiss in good grace.

He proudly listened to me praising his handiwork, then said confidentially: 'I thought you might prefer meeting me here.' I replied: 'I love this place, I'd like to stay here forever. Your house is beautiful, but it takes some getting used to. This is home.'

He clearly understood, and said: 'You will get used to it, and wait 'till you see the bedroom!' I laughed at him: 'Is that an invitation?' At this cheeky remark, he looked at me appraisingly and said: 'In time, who knows...? What happened? You're different.'

I told him: 'Something did happen, as you probably expected, knowing that work of folk art was magical. Last night, the bloke with the horns tumbled out and hid behind my hearth. I ..'

Here, Paul interrupted me: 'You mean to say that a real person came out of that mirror-thing?' Stunned, I replied: 'Yes, wasn't it suppose to? I thought you expected that to happen, that it was a test.

The horned guy sticking out of the piece came out for real, scared to death, nearly starved to death and whipped until he bled. You said he'd feel right at home, yesterday.'

Disturbed now, Paul told me: 'That work of art was magical in a really small way, meant to tempt its owner into crossing boundaries. I expected it to loosen you up a little, to go have some fun. Where is the mirror now? And the guy?' That was so sweet of him, wanting to help me to have fun, possibly at the cost of my love for him.

But: 'The mirror is wrapped in black cloth, a skirt actually, face down in the farthest corner of my room. Lukas was very afraid of it. And Lukas himself, he is probably in my bed, sleeping, or in my kitchen, eating. He was skin and bones, and incredibly weary. Wary too.'

Paul now came straight at me, took hold of my shoulders with both hands, looked straight at me and said: 'That is not how it's supposed to be. Better sit down and tell me every detail. That sounds like strong magic, but I felt nothing.

Come to think of it, it shouldn't even be able to cross my wards.'

Thinking of what happened, I told him: 'Maybe the mirror thing is some kind of portal to another dimension and he was afraid something would come out after him.' This thought clearly impressed Paul: 'You think really logically, and you may very well be right. A portal wouldn't need magic to activate, it is just a door.

And it would explain why he wanted it covered and upside down.' I added: 'And it had to be black cloth, he insisted on that.'

'Tell me everything, please, and then I want to meet him. A portal can be very dangerous, and you, and this part of town, are my responsibility, ' he said. This was not going as I'd expected, and now I was going to have to tell him what I had done.

Well, I did promise myself I'd see this through, so I started: 'As I said, there was something hiding behind the hearth, and I didn't know if it was intelligent or animal. It was clearly very afraid, so I tried to soothe it and get it out. Eventually it did, and it was the guy from the mirror. He was stick-thin, hurt and very weary.'

I described the whole event to him in detail, and it was easy enough until I got to the next morning.

I told Paul: 'This is going to be very embarrassing to tell, so please be patient.' Paul nodded and took my hand to encourage me.

I went on: 'The next morning, I thought it had been a dream, until I felt his presence, and I felt his, you know, male part, trying to enter me.'

Shocked, Paul said: 'He raped you?' In distress, I told him: 'Please don't judge until you've heard it all, Paul. I think he's not like us, he needs sex as if it were food. I was a virgin still, and I did not take his action lightly. I turned on him and got very angry.

He was still half-asleep and fled under the bed in fear. I felt so sorry, you should have seen him. Abused, starved, lonely. I talked to him and got him quieted and in my arms again, where I soothed him and told him you can't just take a girl without asking first. He must have been starved for lovemaking as well, for he proceeded to ask me to allow him to make love to me.

And not in English, he speaks a kind of flowing language, beautiful to hear. But still we understood each other. Paul, I gave him permission. I wanted it, and he needed it.'

As I expected, Paul was crushed to hear this, but he did hold on to my hand and he didn't turn from me in disgust. I didn't really want to describe my feelings having sex with another man to the man I loved, so I said: 'Paul, he is really different. I couldn't refuse him any more than I could refuse him food. I enjoyed it. But he would probably do it with another woman as easily and as skilfully.

I thought he'd kill himself with the exertion, but it gave him strength instead. He apologised for not having asked at first, and I've forgiven him. If he asks again, I will allow him again.

But that doesn't change my feelings for you. I want to do the same things with you, really badly. I was a twenty year old virgin with a crush on a man I thought I couldn't have. And now I'm no longer a virgin, and if that means you don't want me anymore, my virginity is the only thing that will have changed.'

But here, Paul showed me what he was really made of. 'I would be a hypocrite if I held loving another man against you. I practically set you up for it by not telling you what hanging that mirror over your hearth would do to you, even if it took a totally different form than I expected. I don't care about virginity, I do care that he treats you with respect.

I did ask you to wait for your talent to develop before you decided if you really loved me, I knew there might be other men before that.' Putting his arm around me proved to me he didn't blame me, and he said: 'I didn't realize you were still untouched.'

I told him the truth: 'I just never met anyone I wanted to do that with until you came along, and you made it clear to me you needed more time. I let Lukas do it also because I wanted to finally know what it was like.'

Clearly, Paul still found that difficult to hear. I wondered if he realized he could have had the honour if he hadn't kept me away. I thought so. He observed: 'You seem to know exactly what you can expect from this man, and what you want from me.

I feel hurt, but I don't know if I have the right to. And the thought of you wanting to see my bedroom kind of excites me. A lot. It's really tempting. But first I want to meet this creature of yours, find out if he means danger to you or to us all. Will you take me to him?'

Relieved that he seemed to understand me a little, I told him: 'Gladly, but I have a few questions first: do you have a file or sharp knife to trim his hoofs with? And do you have some pants that may be too small for you, or that you don't like to wear anymore? Not too tight, he's not used to wearing clothes.

And what about my magic lesson?' He laughed and took a large file and a sheathed knife from their place on the wall. Then he held out his hand to me, inviting me to follow him up the stairs and into his gorgeous house, where he left me outside a door on the landing: 'I'll check out my pile of excess clothing, he'll want some shirts as well.

But you cannot come in yet, you will not see my bedroom until I'm ready for some love-play of our own.' I felt relieved at his joking, glad I had been totally honest with him. When he came out, he handed me a black velvet cloth and a glass bottle. He carried another bundle himself, plus two leather bound books. 'Homework', he said. Then we left his apartment and climbed the stairs to mine.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I had to put the cloth and the bottle down to open the door, and I picked them up again and entered my house, followed by Paul. Expecting to see Lukas in the kitchen or in bed, I looked around and started to worry: he seemed to have disappeared.

Looking at Paul I felt a bit foolish, suppose he thought I had made it all up. But Paul motioned me to keep quiet, then pointed at the little room where he had personally installed a really nice shower, hooked up to a central boiler located in his basement. Apparently he had other means to find people than just his ears and eyes.

I moved toward the room rather noisily, not wanting to startle Lukas if he was hiding in fear. Quietly opening the door I found him behind the curtain, slightly startled it was me but very relieved. He spoke in his own language and I again heard the meaning of what he said in my mind: 'I sensed a source of great power coming this way, and got scared. I'm totally without resources, I can't defend myself at all.'

From right behind me I now heard Paul speak up, but I couldn't understand a word he said, for it was spoken in the same language that Lukas used. It sounded much more commanding than his usual tone, but it didn't seem to scare Lukas any further.

I could understand Lukas' answer, apparently my mind still caught the meaning of his words when they were not directed at me: 'So I find myself in a guardian's home, what a stroke of good luck. And a guardian who speaks Greek. Now I dare to feel a lot safer.'

And at me: 'You must be talented then, no wonder you can understand me and make yourself understood through your mind.' Suddenly he realized something: 'That makes what I took from you even more of a loss, though it probably saved my life. Please tell me you weren't chaste for your calling.' I didn't understand, but clearly Paul did.

He spoke several sentences in the strange language, apparently Greek, and Lukas' face fell. Paul, seeing I didn't understand, explained and translated for me: 'If you had been chaste to develop your talent, he might have ruined your guardianship by trying to take you unasked. I told him it was a despicable thing to do.'

I can tell you, that made me more than a little mad, and I told Paul in no uncertain terms that it was not his place to judge Lukas for what he did, I had already done that and I had forgiven him. It was my body and my decision, and I had made a choice to let him continue, and greatly enjoyed the results.

If the deflowering of a potential guardian had saved Lukas' life, I'd say it was power well spent, I didn't feel the loss. I had the satisfaction of seeing Paul look a little shamefaced, but not hurt. He might be my self-appointed mentor, but that didn't give him the right to patronize me. He'd better teach me some magic first, for at the moment, I had not a shred of evidence of the existence of magic, I only had his word for it.

Clearly, the translation of language not directed at the other worked both ways, for Lukas' face cleared and he embraced me thankfully. Regrettably, that did seem to hurt Paul, though I'm sure Lukas was only relieved, not triumphant. Lukas seemed very impulsive to me, almost childlike.

But in the matter of lovemaking he appeared to be very much adult and very experienced. It would be interesting to get to know him better.

We sat down with a cup of tea as Paul asked Lukas endless questions about how he had come through that mirror, and who had mistreated him with so much expertise. I couldn't understand the questions as Paul asked them in Greek, but Lukas' answers still came straight into my mind.

Paul offered to translate for me, and when I told him that I understood everything Lukas said in some strange way, he was amazed. 'That must be your talent awakening,' he told me, 'though it is a talent I've never heard of before.' So from that moment on, he only translated his own questions, and we could all understand one another.

Lukas' story was frightening. He had been taken from his father's home, a villa in a place akin to ancient Greece, on the shore of the Mediterranean, but with people like himself living there in a society based on intimacy.

He had been taken to a place that looked nothing like anywhere on his earth, or ours. It was cave-like, but the stone was not like caves on earth, and outside there were no plants or animals at all. The air was hot, laden with moisture and heavy with sulphuric fumes. The creatures keeping him captive were nothing like humans and not like his own kind either. Demons would be the best description, and they never gave a reason why they had taken him. He suspected they just enjoyed torture. He had been systematically starved, of food and of company. He needed a lot of emotional and physical attention to thrive, and even with plenty of food he would have slowly succumbed to sheer unhappiness.

They did not actively torture him, just the occasional beating. It was mainly the emotional void that brought him to the point where he had to get away or die within a few days. He was not bound in the caves, and one day he found a strange opening in one of the rocks. In desperation, he stuck his head into the hole, and saw a strange but welcoming living-room.

Not able to imagine a worse fate than his current one, he jumped through, and found himself on the floor of the room. Hearing someone approach, he hid, and nothing could have tempted him to come out besides an offer of intimacy, the one thing he could no longer do without. My friendliness had made him feel a lot better, able to eat something, to see some future for himself.

Used to a culture where practically everyone would be intimate with each other, he felt free to initiate sex with me without consideration. Stopped in his tracks brutally, he was devastated, ready to give up. After I explained my anger and we had shared intimacies, he could go on.

Having no way to return home, he would have to try to fit in. The Greece where people like him lived had to be a different reality than ours, and there was no way to find it from here. We would have to try to make his life bearable, fit him in well enough for him to be able to enjoy some freedom.

It would be really difficult in our stiff society and with his alien looks, but I was glad to hear that Paul was willing to help, and we decided to start with Lukas learning English and basic Victorian manners. Paul showed him the clothes he'd brought, and fitting Lukas well enough, they'd probably look even better on him once he'd gained some weight.

But before all that, Paul showed me how to infuse the black velvet cloth with the fluid from the glass bottle, a kind of spiritual holy water. Then we wrapped the mirror in that. Now it only needed putting away in a deep dark place.

'Why not destroy it?' I asked. 'Frankly, I don't dare. The collapse of the portal might flatten my quarter of the city, or the whole city,' Paul said, 'this should be safe enough.' And then there was the matter of Lukas' hoofs. Though he could file them into shape by himself, it would be easier to have someone else do it.

Of course that was a job for the artist Paul, and with directions from Lukas he cut and filed one hoof into the shape it was supposed to have. Then he did the other one in reverse, without further instruction, proof of his superior craftsmanship. 'If you ever need shoes, come to me, and I'll forge you a nice pair out of copper,' he joked, but the concept of shoeing hoofs was totally new to Lukas. When we explained he said: 'My hoofs are hard enough to climb rocks with all day.

I'd rather wear shoes like yours. That would make me fit right in.' And he was right. Fitting in would be the main challenge from now on.

Paul took the mirror for safe-keeping. I'll make you a new piece for over your hearth,' he promised, 'you read those books, and I'll get some for Lukas to study English. I'll get some food too, and cook for the three of us tonight, if you both agree.'

He translated this into Greek, and we both did agree. In English he said to me: 'You were right to give him what he needed. I will try to keep an open mind.' Relieved by his understanding, I embraced and kissed him, and he left. I decided to feed my goat-man, then send him back to bed, but he turned out to be just as much his own person as I was. With another meal inside him, he started to nuzzle me, and fondle my curves.

Absently I permitted his attentions, until he said: 'Melissa.' I looked at him, saw a thoughtful look on his face. 'You love him, don't you?' he asked. Did he speak the words out aloud, or were they just in my mind this time? 'I do, Lukas,' I replied, I've loved him since I first met him a few weeks ago.' 'Why aren't you intimate then? He loves you badly, it hurts him when I touch you,' he wondered. 'I want to very much, Lukas, but he doesn't want to get intimate for fear of getting hurt,' I said. 'That is stupid, he already hurts. I think he should love you as I love you,' he insisted. 'I know, and I wish he would,' I said, 'but he wants to wait until my magic has come through.'

'Do you love me?' he asked. 'I think I do, Lukas, I haven't known you that long but I think I love you,' I said, 'do you think that is possible?' 'How could anyone love just one person?' he retorted, 'where I come from that would be considered unhealthy.

Can I make love to you now?' As answer, I took him in my arms and kissed him deeply, the remembrance of feeling him thrust himself into me rushing in, making me feel as shameless as a cat in heat.

We made it to the bed, where I stroked his mottled skin, across his chest and over his stomach, until I reached his impressive penis, stroking it too, the base, the smooth, bared top. Then I took it in my mouth, first as far as it would fit, then running my tongue over the smooth surface, under the ridges, and back in. He lay back for some time, enjoying my caresses, only moving slightly along with my movement up and down.

But soon he took a more active part again, and I felt him move beneath me, felt his hands stroke me, my soft white skin, my beautiful round breasts, until he was once more kneeling between my legs, spreading them gently, stroking my thighs and tasting my most intimate place with his tongue. With my passion rising, I also felt the need to be more active, and I in my turn moved beneath him until I could reach his penis again, head between his legs, passing my heat on to his sensitive member. This was really turning me on, and I soon had a high, feeling his flesh in my mouth at my height of passion. Moaning with ardour, he carefully pulled his male part out of my mouth, turned a little and entered me, nice and firmly.

That was a good trick, penetrating on a high point, for it once again brought me sheer bliss. I guess this was his favourite part, for he looked triumphant, pumping away on top of me, looking at me with real love, fondling my breasts, my face, my hair. He lifted my legs a little to allow himself even more access, reaching other sensitive spots inside me, leading me to new heights. Collapsing on me was becoming an excellent habit, he was so light that I could have had him there for hours.

I suddenly realized that I had ignored one of his most distinctive features so far. Were his horns just too alien for me to acknowledge? Or did I suppose they had little feeling because they were so hard? In any case, I pulled the blanket over both of us, snuggled comfortably under him, and touched one of the horns.

Of course, it felt like a horn, hard and rough. But my touch did have an effect on him. He turned his head to give me easy access, and closed his eyes in pleasure. He loved to have his horns touched! Feeling along the surface of the horn, I was amazed that his body could make such a hard substance, and when I reached the base I rubbed the ring where the horn was attached to his skull, a bony ridge covered with soft skin.

This put him in a near trance of ardour, he leaned into the caresses like a cat, it felt as if he would start purring any time. He reached for the breast he was not lying on, stroking it, feeling its soft weight in his hand. With my other hand, I started to give his other horn base the same caresses as the first, and it seemed he could hardly contain the feeling this gave him.

I felt his penis rise against my thigh, and I spread my legs to give him access to his release, which he promptly took, taking care to keep his proud horns within my reach. Feeling his penetration inside me again, I shared the ecstasy he was experiencing. He bent over slightly to take one of my nipples in his mouth, the whole top of my breast, gently sucking it, and licking the tip with his tongue. That sharp feeling reached right down, further and further, and when it met the place where his penis touched me inside, I exploded in the strongest high I had had so far. Feeling that high slowly ebb, flaring up with every one of his thrusts, I felt completely sated. Lukas now released my breast, and sat up straighter in his furious action.

No longer able to reach his horns, I stroked his chest, his arms, his shoulders. Where did he get that energy? How could the small amount he ate ever become even a thin layer of fat if he spent it immediately on making love frantically? I just knew he needed this more than food, so I stopped thinking and enjoyed his release.

This time, he lay next to me, truly spent now, our bodies touching, limbs entwined. We kissed some more, but we mainly just lay there, enjoying the silence.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

He soon fell asleep, still low on energy I guessed, so I picked up one of the books and sat on the bed next to his sleeping form. The book was interesting, explaining where magic energy came from and how talented people could manipulate it. I read for a few hours, trying to understand what I read, and writing down questions for Paul.

When Lukas woke up, we showered together, and I decided to wear one of my dresses instead of my usual skirt and bodice. Lukas was watching me dress, and I'm sure that if he had not been sated totally not three hours ago, he would have jumped me again. 'Are you dressing up to convince Paul to make his love for you physical?' he asked.

I answered: 'Yes I am, does that make you jealous?' Looking at me questioningly he said: 'What's jealous?' That made me want to hug him, but I was sure that if I did that, we'd never make it to dinner. So I told him I couldn't explain quickly, and that it was better not to know the feeling anyway.

He added: 'If he sees you in that dress and still won't make love to you, he must be a machine instead of a man. You look like a goddess.' I took heart from his certainty of my success, for I did not feel nearly as sure. Paul was a very disciplined fellow, he could be dying of love and still not act on it, I feared.

But still I said: 'Thank you love, every woman wants to be compared to a goddess. Hair up, in a tail, or down?' His answer was clear: 'Down of course. He'll want to touch it, it looks like molten copper. If he won't, he must really be made of steel.'

Looking in the mirror, despite my realisation how beautiful I really was, that was exactly what I was afraid of.

I convinced Lukas he really needed to wear clothes when visiting, so he chose a shirt and a pair of trousers and put them on. He wore them well, not looking as uncomfortable as he must have felt. His hooves looked cute, peeping from under the pant-legs. His tail was just a small bump under his shirt, hardly noticeable.

Only the horns really betrayed his alienness. As we were ready to go, I took his arm and we went downstairs. I knocked on the door, and after a short time, Paul opened the door.

His face became a study in stunned amazement when he saw me. I'd never worn a dress in his presence, and he had clearly never really looked at me as a woman before. He did now.

The artist in him could not be immune to my perfect form, usually hidden in practical clothing. I saw it in his posture, in his face, he wanted to touch me, feel my glorious hair, run his hands through it, caress my perfectly symmetrical curves, bury his face in my luscious cleavage.

But he didn't. He didn't even hug me or kiss me, he just gently took my hand with both of his and kissed it gallantly, saying: 'Melissa, you are so beautiful you stopped my heart there for a second.' Then he shook hands cordially with Lukas, addressing him in Greek.

I could clearly see that Lukas did not understand Paul's behaviour at all. He stammered a greeting back, but he looked like he had been hit with a hammer. In his culture it must have been the worst sin to nearly die of admiration for someone and then deny it so totally.

In our society it was proof of total self control, mind over body, a sign of manliness if you please, but in his it must have been a gross rudeness and probably very unhealthy. I took his hand to comfort him, he was really upset, but at the same time I did feel a bit rejected by Paul's behaviour. Still, he had made it clear he needed more time, and I had promised myself I would stick it out, so I would.

I'd explain it to Lukas later, and maybe share a little love with him to relieve both our feelings. For now, Lukas would not be able to dwell on them, for Paul invited us to enter his palace. I suspected he must have been more used to riches than I was, for he was not stunned with admiration of the total, but rather very much interested in the detail.

He studied the wood panelling, the stairs, the mosaic floor with so much patience, that Paul and I got a little restless and went ahead. Paul said something to him, and I heard the answer: 'Sure, I'll see you in the kitchen. You don't mind my hanging back?'

Paul said something in Greek again, and then him and me walked into the lovely kitchen.

Alone, Paul showed a little more feeling, saying: 'Melissa, have you any idea what you're doing to me looking like that?' I decided to play it cool as well, and replied: 'The idea was to have you fall at my feet and worship me.'

'Well, you nearly succeeded in that, it took my utmost discipline to act casually. I thought we had agreed to just be friends until you had your talent under control?' he said in a pained voice. 'No, you decided that, because you were afraid to get hurt,' I retorted, 'I'd rather take the risk, loving someone is always a risk.'

He clearly didn't want to discuss it any further, he had trouble looking at me but also couldn't keep his eyes off me. He nearly whispered: 'I didn't realize you were so beautiful.' There had been way too much talk already, and this wasn't helping. I said: 'I'll respect it if you don't want to become intimate with me, but don't expect me to start acting like a stranger.'

And I took him in my arms and leaned against him, resting my head on his chest. It was so good to smell him again, and feel his strong body. I felt him tense at first, then give himself over to me, allowing himself to enjoy this little bit of intimacy.

We stood there, with me imagining him on top of me, stark naked, thrusting his manhood deep inside me, the thought giving me an instant thrill of intense lust. What he felt I don't know, but the way he clung to me proved it was not indifference. He even dared running his hands through my hair, saying: 'I've tried polishing copper to this sheen, but I couldn't do it.'

When Lukas came in, Paul released me instantly. But Lukas of course did not claim me, and he was very happy to see me where I desperately wanted to be. Still, his entrance was the end of our little bit of intimacy, but it had been enough.

Lukas and I sat down at the table with a cup of tea, and Paul busied himself with food, listening to Lukas' praise of his workmanship and taste whilst he prepared a meal in the same way as yesterday, only with Greek style cheese instead of meat, and a lot more oil. Apparently Paul thought Lukas needed to eat some fat to gain weight.

Lukas did understand without being told that Paul had made all of this, every little detail, with his own hands, and he was clearly very much impressed. He said: 'You are clearly a gifted craftsman, even an artist, as well as a highly ranking magician. No wonder you have little time to spend on women.'

Of course this was meant as an allusion to Paul's rejection of my blatant attempts to get him to bed me, but Paul reacted quite embarrassedly, apparently understanding it the wrong way, and thereby revealing more than he would have wanted. I filed that new knowledge away for future use, and waited to hear what Paul would reply, of course depending on his own translation of what he said: 'Thank you, I think.'

Lukas had more observations about the house, having compared it to my apartment as well, and seen the differences in spaces. He also professed a great interest in seeing Paul's workshop, where all those beautiful things had been designed and crafted. Of course, Paul was happy to offer him a tour of the workshop tomorrow, during my working hours.

I worked mornings on the sites of the buildings I inspected, then usually spent some more hours calculating and drawing at home, in preparation for the next day. It was a great job, giving me plenty of freedom and quite an adequate salary. It also would enable me to study magic with Paul for a few hours each day.

Then, dinner was ready and we sat and ate, talking about Lukas' people and their customs, and about our Victorian customs. Paul said everything in two languages, Lukas and I both spoke our own.

Lukas enjoyed the meal very much, after being starved he had much more use for a light meal like this, even though he looked as if he could use the calories of something like those sausages on the market. But rich food could still make him very sick. Still, Paul dared to offer him a slice of home-made pie as dessert, with cream on top. It was delicious, and Lukas dared to eat all of his generous slice. He was clearly doing really well.

After dinner and the washing up, we sat in the living-room for a little while, checking out the books Paul had fished out of his enormous collection to help Lukas learn the language. And Paul took the time to answer all the questions I had accumulated whilst reading his books on magic.

I learned I could expect to discover magical abilities that I would develop spontaneously. And by practising discipline and meditation I would be able to direct the abilities more accurately, and control them in acute situations. I was really curious what abilities I would get.

Lukas listened with interest as well, his people also knew magic he said. In fact, it was widespread, his people knew little technology, using magic for most utilities that we were improving with steam and electricity, like lighting and heating our houses, and heating water for cooking and bathing. This interested Paul immensely, and I was certain they would discuss the differences between both societies a lot in the near future.

Lukas was clearly intrigued by the technology that Paul used, even invented. Paul asked if Lukas had any magic of his own, and Lukas replied that he had some experience with its use, instinctively, but that he had no magic he could use consciously. His father apparently was a high-ranking magician in his country, and all his siblings followed in his footsteps.

It seemed as if our Lukas was a bit of a black sheep in the family, not amounting to much in the eyes of his father. Paul told him that in our world, magic often took some time to break through, especially at a more profound level. This intrigued Lukas, for apparently he was only a half-sibling to his more talented sisters and brothers, his mother having been of his own kind, the people with horns we generally called satyrs, and his father human. 'My mother had no magic,' he said, 'and I had only a tiny, unconscious bit, and that was before my captors shaved off my hair.'

'Wait a second, ' I exclaimed, 'you have hair?' Lukas laughed at my surprise: 'I'll have you know I have curly hair to rival Paul here. Those demons shaved it off after I pulled a trick on them, nearly getting them to fight each other.

They shaved me, and not gently, just before I escaped. The welts on my back were the result of my feeble attempts at resistance.' That was quite a revelation, I thought he was naturally hairless. I couldn't resist, I had to feel his head, and indeed, there was a little stubble there. There were also the cuts I noticed yesterday, reminding me of the welts on his back.

I asked Paul: 'Do you by any chance know anything of healing?' Paul answered: 'I'm not a doctor, but I can treat wounds when they're not infected. Comes with the job of guardian, it's a bit of a high risk job, and some of the people I come into contact with distrust doctors. In really bad cases I can sometimes use magic, but not always.'

That was good enough for me, and I asked Lukas: 'Would you mind showing Paul those welts, I'd like to have his opinion on their condition.' Lukas answered cheekily: 'Any excuse to take my clothes off,' and he stripped himself of his shirt.

Seeing his mottled skin with the angry red marks reminded me of yesterday night, when I had held him in my arms, still sticky with blood. It caused me to feel a surge of love for this young man, looking so different, but feeling so familiar already. Paul was clearly a bit shocked at the extent of the damage, he hadn't realized Lukas was hurt as well as emaciated.

He sat next to Lukas and probed the welts, noticing that the skin around them was not swollen and that they were clean and scabbed over. 'They must hurt quite a bit, but they are not infected and are healing well,' Paul said.

'Melissa cleaned them yesterday night. It hurt like hell, but apparently it worked, ' Lukas explained. Paul looked at his head as well: 'And this is from the shaving? The cuts are deeper but narrower, and also clean and on their way to healing. I can feel your stubble too,' Paul said, stroking Lukas's head to enjoy the feel of the tiny hairs. Lukas was undergoing the attention with his eyes closed like a cat, so predictable and yet so endearing.

I was actually looking forward to tonight, before going to sleep we would probably make love again, my hands on his horns, his hands on me. But tomorrow was an early day, and I needed my hours of sleep. So I proposed to Lukas to go back to our own apartment, which he agreed to.

Paul asked Lukas: 'Will come to me tomorrow? I can help you with your English, and you can help me in the workshop. No-one will see you there, and you'll be safe and not feel lonely.' I was really grateful, for I didn't look forward to leaving him all alone for a whole day.

And Lukas told him: 'Yes, please. Such a stroke of good luck that you speak Greek.' At this, Paul said cryptically: 'That may not be a coincidence. I'll have to look into that.' As we climbed the beautiful stairs to the front door, Paul seemed to be a lot less sure suddenly, which I took as a sign that he wanted to be intimate in his goodbye to me, but didn't know how to start. No longer hindered by doubt and insecurity towards him, I embraced and kissed him, and he not only returned it, but also leaned into me and dared to touch my hair again.

I'd rather have had him run his hand over my breasts, but with patience that moment might still come. With Lukas looking his encouragement to me I kept Paul in my arms until he started to get restless, then I released him and Lukas and I went upstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Once in my apartment, Lukas had a night snack, and I asked him: 'I suppose that not accepting an offer of intimacy from someone you love would be very rude where you come from?' Lukas confirmed: 'Very rude indeed, I have a lot to learn if I ever want to fit in here. What Paul did tonight, just kissing your hand instead of showing you some real affection, when you had clearly dressed up especially for him, would have meant the end of his chances with you. It would have been an insult.'

I nodded, observing: 'And here it is a sign of self-control, of manliness even, and it shows great respect to the lady in question. He actually accepted quite a high level of intimacy from me. That doesn't mean I wasn't disappointed.'

Now, Lukas looked at me in an intense way, and said: 'Will you allow me to make up for your disappointment by showing you my admiration for you?' And though I really needed my sleep to be able to get up early the next morning, I did want what he offered, so I nodded to show him my consent.

He took off his shirt and trousers, folding them neatly and laying them on a chair. Then he offered me his hand, and led me to the bedroom. There, he sat on the edge of the bed, and instead of watching how I undressed, he unbuttoned the whole front of my dress, then helped me out of it, laying it over the same bedroom chair as his own stuff.

Seeing him naked made me realize this was still his natural state to me, and to him as well, for he had no consciousness of being undressed at all. Soon I was totally naked too, and Lukas clearly showed his appreciation of my body. Starting with my feet, he held every part of my body, stroking it, kissing it, admiring it.

As he slowly moved upward, of course my excitement grew. He invited me to sit on the bed, and sat on the floor between my legs. Kissing my inner thighs, he came ever closer to a part of me that now wanted him intensely. But he kissed it, tasted it, and moved on to my buttocks, my belly, my breasts, my neck, and my mouth. His hands ran through my glorious hair, and he bent over me to kiss it, too. Then he went back to what he had only tasted before, and gave it his undivided attention. After that, our lovemaking turned a lot rougher, and it ended with Lukas totally out of breath, and me totally sated.

The last thing I did before falling asleep was warn him: 'If you want to make love tomorrow morning, you'll have to wake early, for I have to be up at first light.' Excitedly he asked: 'Can I wake you, you know, by entering you? Like this morning, only with you not scaring me?' Already half asleep I agreed: 'Yes you can. You are really something, you know.' And then I fell asleep, dreaming of an intensely blue sea, craggy rocks, and venerable old trees standing in dry tilled earth.

That morning I had a different dream, a very stimulating one. I was riding wave after wave of intense pleasure, a burning hot spot between my legs the centre of the blissful rolling movement. It was a very nice dream, probably brought on by the awakening of my sexual feeling by... waking a little bit I realized I was not just dreaming.

The movement I was riding was Lukas', and the stimulation was not just in my mind, for I now clearly felt him filling me up. He must have manoeuvred himself under and behind me in just the right spot to penetrate me without waking me up, and now he was moving us both in that slow, wave-like rhythm. He had an arm around me, his hand between my legs, stimulating me from the outside. How had he done that without waking me? He truly was a randy goat, but I loved him for it.

Soon, I couldn't think anymore, the pleasure was getting so intense it took over my whole being. A cry escaped me when I reached my high, after which he speeded up his pumping. I moved to my knees to give him more space, which stimulated him even more, holding on to my hips and thrusting at ever increasing pace.

Just when I thought he couldn't go any faster, his hands clenched at my hips and he came in a series of spasms. Panting like a dog, he fell back on the bed, totally spent once again.

I lay down on top of him, supporting myself on my arms so as not to squash him, and kissed him on his mouth. He couldn't return the kiss for lack of breath, but he did look at me with intense love. I said: 'You naughty horny billy-goat how did you manage to do that without waking me?' He laughed, getting his breath back reasonably fast, and said: 'Years of experience my dear, years and years of practice.' Then he admitted: 'Actually, you were sleeping quite deeply, it would have taken a lot of effort to wake you. But it was time anyway and this was more fun. Wasn't it?' I had to admit he had brought me to new heights of passion, and I could see he had totally spent himself again. I asked him: 'Do you have to go so deeply, spend yourself so totally each time?' He replied: 'How else will I get my stamina back? I can't go for a good run outside, or go swimming. Maybe helping Paul at the forge will make me a bit more fit.'

But now I had to go to work, so I kissed my bed-partner, thanked him for the ride, showered and dressed in one of my suits. My hair was put up again, and I had a good breakfast. 'Will you go to Paul straight away, or will you sleep some more first?' I asked.

Lukas answered: 'I'll sleep some more, then I'll go, he'll probably interrogate me again, about my country, about my family, maybe even in English, to see how much I have picked up already, but I will go. He can help me fit in, too, and I can help him with his work. I'm looking forward to seeing his workshop, where all those beautiful things are born.'

'Wear clothes, or at least ask him if he is fine with it before you go there naked,' I advised. But he said: 'No, I want to fit in, I'll wear clothes so I get used to them. As long as I can sleep naked and maybe sometimes walk around without trousers in your house, I'll manage.' That pleased me, though I kind of liked him being naked, it seemed fitting for him to walk around as nature intended. I had to go, and I kissed him once more then left.

On the last stairs I ran into Paul, again, which confused me quite a bit after last night. He seemed more comfortable with me in a suit and my hair put up, and I clearly felt that though he did 'see' me now, he hadn't forgotten how I looked in a dress.

Good, I wanted him to remember that, I wanted him to lose some inner peace or even sleep over that image.

I did please me that he wanted to say goodbye to me, for I had not a doubt that he had been waiting for me, listening to hear me on the stairs. I decided to allow myself a hug and a good sniff at him, so I wrapped my arms around him, resting my face against his throat where his shirt opened, and took a nice deep breath. It was wonderful.

He did feel a bit awkward and tense in my arms at first, but soon he started to lean into me a little. I even got a slightly more than chaste kiss out of him, which was enough for now, I would just have to allow him some time.

Then I said: 'Please take good care of my billy-goat for me, he's coming over after his beauty-sleep. I'm going on an inspection, I'll be back in the afternoon to do some calculations at home, and then I'm free to do some studying.'

Paul asked me: 'Lunch at my place?' I accepted gladly: 'Please, deliver me from my own cooking!' and off I was.

After a twenty minute walk I arrived on the construction site I was currently inspecting. The building was starting to look quite impressive, after the foundation had been laid the contractors were now putting up the frame of cast iron, fusing it together with huge bolts and some welds. The cast iron construction would be covered with glass panels, shaping an enormous glasshouse in the modern Victorian style.

My job was to monitor the whole building process for safety, the city council my employer. I would check the architect's calculations, run over his drawings minutely, measure every line put on the building plans and calculate it up to full-scale, then measure it in the field to see if it all added up. I had to check the building materials for quality, all for the good cause of safety.

It was a really responsible job, and a difficult one, not only because of the work itself, but mostly because I was a woman in a man's world. But the contractors knew me and no longer tried to get away with inferior materials or sloppy calculations. They knew I'd spot them and use my authority to stop the build until safety measures were met again.

I'd had to do that in the past, but no longer. Even new contractors were warned not to fool with me, and though the people whose work I inspected didn't like me, they did respect me, which was good enough. I suppose they didn't like my male colleagues either.

My superior in the council trusted me in everything, and even liked to talk shop with me, and the work itself was a continual challenge. I could more or less decide what hours to work, was allowed, even supposed, to do the calculations and measurements at home, and I had a lot of leisure time. And the pay was good.

As I passed the temporary gate put up around the building site, the workmen nodded or called 'good morning' to me. They mostly liked me, for inspecting safety measures was also my job, and they knew the risk of accidents was reduced to a minimum on the sites that I controlled, no matter what corners their bosses tried to cut to save a few pennies or hours of construction time.

In the two days I had been off work they had progressed a lot, the whole metal frame was standing up, and they would be ready to start applying the glass tomorrow. It would take at least a week to cover the building completely, provided the framework was stable enough to start glazing, and it was my responsibility to judge if it was.

So I went to the little cabin that served the architect and the contractors as office for a briefing. All three of them were present, the architect, the contractor that had built the frame and the one who was supplying the glass panelling.

Whilst we were drinking coffee and talking about the progress of the building and the weather forecasts, the owner came in as well. Now everyone was present, and I started off by telling I had checked every one of their calculations and had found not a single aberration. Today, I wanted to measure the frame against the drawings, to see if the measurements matched the drawings, ensuring it was strong enough to carry the weight of the glass.

The four men were very confident, and so was I. This lot had not made a single mistake yet, so I expected them to get the rest right as well, but of course I was going to check.

I was wearing a women's suit on purpose, for it meant climbing scaffolding and getting hands-on with the frame itself, inspecting and measuring every inch of it. It would take me the whole morning to take the measurements, and the afternoon to compare them to the plans, in which time the builders would work on the ornamentation and carefully unpacking the glass panels.

I took leave of the men, and got my tools and my helmet from the locked compartment in the cabin.

Then I went over to the building site, preparing to climb to the very top of the building. The moment I set foot on the scaffolding, I felt a wave of unease roll over me. It was not sickness, or dizziness, it felt different. As if it came from the outside, not from inside me.

I was not afraid of heights, and not subject to dizzy spells or hysteria, and I would not show the men my momentary discomfort. So I climbed on the scaffolding, ascended to the top and started my measurements. Being busy, the discomfort faded to the background, like an annoying buzz in my ear. It was still there, though, and I kept puzzling what it might be.

For a short moment I was afraid to be pregnant, I did have intercourse multiple times the last two days. But my common sense told me that I could not get pregnant from another species, and besides, as far as I knew one did not feel the effects of a pregnancy within two days. That was impossible. It had to be something else.

Maybe I felt someone using magic close-by, the books I had read mentioned magicians being able to feel others practice the arts. But it lasted for hours already, would a spell take this long to cast? Or maybe someone had cast a spell on a worker, or the building, or my tools?

I dismissed that theory, but not the sense it might have something to do with magic. Maybe the awakening of magic felt this way, like a tooth breaking through. Determined to ask Paul, I filed the thought away and kept measuring and checking doggedly, only stopping once to drink tea during a general break at eleven.

My notebook was filled with numbers, neatly organised according to my own filing system. I had also sketched several parts of the building, noting measurements and construction details in the margins.

I'd thoroughly calculate all these measurements this afternoon, and send the results to the building council. By the time it was nearly one 'o clock, I was done, except for one last set of measurements close to where I had ascended the scaffolding.

After those, I was going to descend at that same point, and go home. But coming closer, the uneasiness hit me again, stronger this time. I took hold of one of the supports until I felt able to stand again, then started to look around for a reason why I should feel this way.

I found I could use the feeling as a lodestone, letting its intensity lead me to a sort of focal point for the feeling, now more like extreme nervousness, a big hand clamping on my insides. The place where it seemed to come to a high point was an intersection of supports for the frame, made of heavy, thick cast iron, supporting part of the building with their strength and weight, bolted to each other with heavy metal bolts.

I ignored my feeling of unease to really carefully measure each beam, comparing the shape to what it should be, checking the joins and the connections. All looked totally in order, all the measurements were fine. But I got a distinct feeling that something was wrong, that this junction was not going to hold up.

A feeling! I was a scientist, not a bloody diviner! I tried my very best to ignore the feeling, to stick to the measurements, but the feeling would not go away. It had to be acknowledged.

So I checked everything again, carefully tapping the metal to hear it resound. Of course my lingering over a part of the construction worried the overseer, and he carefully asked if something was wrong.

I told him honestly: 'All the measurements are correct, the shape is perfect, the joint is strong. Still I get a feeling something is not right in this intersection, but I cannot prove it. A feeling, as if I've studied engineering to follow my instincts.'

He did not look relieved at my denial of my feeling, but rather more worried: 'They say you're the best safety inspector, if you think there is something wrong maybe we should take it apart and make sure. Though the boss is not going to like that, it would set us back the whole afternoon.'

I replied: 'The trouble is, I cannot prove anything, so I cannot stop the build. And I'm not convinced myself, that something is indeed wrong, it is just a feeling. I've learned to rely on facts instead of feelings.'

Still, the overseer was in doubt: 'If that intersection is not sound and we put the weight of the glass on, the whole structure might collapse. Lives may be lost, and a lot of money down the drain.' As if I didn't know that. But I had never relied on instinct, and didn't know what do do now. So I decided to step by the office and ask my own boss before I stopped anything.

Climbing further down until I set foot on the ground again, I once more admired the architecture of this lovely modern building. When the architect joined me I expressed my admiration of his design, and he was very pleased to hear it.

He asked: 'And what did you think of the construction?' I replied, still in doubt if I should mention the feeling to him, since it might influence his opinion of my common sense: 'As beautiful and solid enough for the load it will carry.

It will a magnificent building, a symbol of Victorian ingenuity.' But now the overseer had come after me and said: 'Tell him about your feeling.' I started to deny this but the overseer was adamant: 'Please tell him, lives could be at stake.'

This worried the architect and he asked: 'Was there a problem?' I tried to explain it away: 'I had this uneasy feeling where the ascent of the scaffolding is, and when I came very close, it concentrated in that support over there, the big one. But the shapes and measurements were all normal, and the sound as well. I've never had a feeling like that, maybe it is indigestion.'

And the architect seemed to hope I believed this explanation myself. I promised to complete the calculations this afternoon, and send approval before dark. Then I locked my stuff back up, picked up my notebook and took leave, and went home, not directly, but via the council building where my superior worked.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was a good ten minutes walk, but the day was beautiful, the weather was sunny and warm and the green had spread a lot again, it seemed overnight. Leaves appeared on trees, the first spring flowers opened, birds were making a noise.

The council building was large and beautifully designed. I liked to come here, the interior was even more beautiful, white marble and classic style statues. I passed by a lovely patio garden with box hedges and roses, of course not in bloom yet but sprouting fresh green leaves to prove they had survived winter.

I went to the second floor and walked into the office space of my boss, the council building official, Mr Millner. His secretary greeted me, and when I asked her if I could speak to Mr Millner she affirmed and asked if I wanted coffee. I did, they had great coffee there, and I knocked and went into his personal office.

Mr Millner greeted me warmly and asked me to sit down. I did, and we talked of spring and lovely weather for a very short time. The secretary brought us both coffee, how did she do that so quickly? It was fabulous coffee again, and then I asked my question, feeling a bit awkward: 'Mr Millner, I inspected the Glasshouse site this morning, and everything seemed in very good order, all the measurements were perfect, everything was in excellent shape. But...' I hesitated, feeling foolish, certain this would do my reputation no good.

My boss, seeing I felt embarrassed, encouraged me: 'You can tell me, I will not make fun of you or hold this against you. You have an excellent record.' I knew, and I wanted to keep it that way, but the feeling still buzzed me, so I acknowledged it again: 'but one junction at the very base of the building just didn't feel right. It made me uneasy, so much so that I could follow the uneasiness to its centre, a thick column of cast iron supporting at least one quarter of the construction.

I measured everything twice, checked the bolts, nothing was amiss. I feel foolish, I cannot prove anything, but it still feels wrong.'

My boss did indeed not make fun at me or laugh, he thought very seriously about what I had just said. Then he asked: 'It was not dizziness, nausea, something you ate?'

I replied: 'It was not from inside me, the feeling came from the building. I've never had anything like it before, facts have always been good enough for me. I came by to ask you what do with it.' He told me: 'You don't need to do anything except the calculations. If they are correct, send word and we'll let the building go ahead. We cannot justify to stop it on a hunch.'

Relieved, I told him: 'I will, thank you for you advice. I am an engineer, not a diviner, that is why I wanted your opinion.' He shook hands with me and said: 'Always, Miss Thorn, you're a good engineer and your calculations are good enough for me any day. See you soon!'

I left, saying: 'Thanks again, sir, for the advice.' And then I said goodbye to the secretary: 'See you soon, and thanks for the coffee!' And I went home whistling, enjoying the day, looking forward to lunch with Lukas and Paul, and an evening of studying together. But somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny little buzz still made itself felt.

When I came home, the guys were still in the workshop, both hot and sweaty, and very pleased with themselves. Paul asked: 'Did you have a good day at work?' I replied: 'Kind of, but something weird happened. I'll tell you all over lunch. What have you two been up to?'

Now Lukas launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around me, kissing me ardently. He felt really solid and warm, and the combination of a warm wet kiss and his musky scent made me look forward to tonight. He was so sweet and cheerful, how could I not love him to bits?

But then Paul looked a bit lost in his own beautiful workshop, and that could not be borne, so when Lukas and me were through with our kiss, I walked over to Paul and greeted him much the same, only not jumping him and not kissing him on the mouth.

I just embraced him intimately and nuzzled his neck again, smelling him as well, his scent as exciting as usual. He did return my embrace but he did not offer to kiss me, not that I'd expected that. But he seemed full of something, and he soon told me: 'We've been working hard, Melissa, starting on a new project together. Lukas has a real feeling for art.' I had a hunch they were not going to tell me what it was till it was finished, so I didn't ask. A hunch. What was it with me?

So I answered: 'I am glad you had a good day together, I wish I could have been with you. And I'm not done yet, I still have some calculations to do.'

Maybe I would find a reason yet for the nagging feeling still riding me, giving me a reason to have that support checked thoroughly. Paul took my broad hint and led us to his apartment, where he had already set a nice table that only needed some food for a perfect lunch.

Lukas apparently already knew where the cellar was and fetched several kinds of cheese, fresh tomatoes, salad, butter and a ham, whilst Paul magicked a freshly baked bread from his oven. Soon we were all sitting down, attacking the excellent food.

And then it was my turn to be interrogated by Paul: 'You mentioned something weird happening?' I told him what had happened, not hiding my chagrin at getting 'hunches' and 'feelings', and also what my boss had said.

Paul wanted to know everything in detail, wanted me to describe the feeling exactly, where I felt it, and whether it tickled, or hurt, and whether it stayed at the same intensity or faded or came in waves. I tried to remember, aided by the buzz I still felt in the back of my mind.

Talking about it, the feeling became stronger, making it easier to describe. I also told him about the lodestone-effect, which seemed to please him a lot. Suddenly I realized that his interest must mean he knew more about what I had felt, and I cried out: 'You know what it is that I felt!'

Paul laughed and said: 'I wondered when you would realize that I was asking about something I was familiar with.' But to me it was important, so I just said: 'Tell me, please!' Not fazed by my seriousness at all, Paul observed: 'You are such a methodical person, you never considered your feeling might be right, did you?'

And indeed, I hadn't, I thought I was going mad or simple. 'It is your magic awakening, Melissa,' Paul said intently, 'apparently you can feel it if materials have weaknesses in them. You feel it as a nagging or buzzing, getting stronger when you approach the flaw itself. That beam really is a danger to the building and everyone involved.

In the future, with training, you'll be able to figure out what the problem is, not just that there is one. And the next stage is to be able to repair the damage with magic, but that is probably at least a decade away for you.'

'How will I be able to practice?' I asked him, 'and how will I convince my boss and the contractors that something is indeed wrong when it doesn't show on the outside?' Paul answered: 'As to the first, you can hone your skills in my forge, I cast pieces all the time, and you can check them for flaws and if you find any, open them up to see if you were right. Then I'll recast the piece and you can check it again.

And with valuable pieces, you can just ask me if you are right, I have the same talent so I usually know. And as to the second question, it is difficult for you cannot prove anything. But once you've been right a few times people will start to believe you, and most people can believe in feelings and hunches without thinking of magic at all, so you'll be safe.'

Contemplating this, I concluded: 'So I cannot do anything about my current case? I'll just have to hope it will not cost too many lives and give me the reputation that my hunches come true?' Here, Paul looked at me intently and said: 'That it what I meant, yes, but maybe it will all work out after all. You can double check your calculations, maybe you'll find something, but I doubt it. I have cast plenty of large pieces, and flaws can be virtually undetectable.'

We left it at that, it was still difficult to keep up a three way conversation, though Lukas had apparently benefited greatly from Paul's books, and from their conversation today, for he could already follow some of Paul's English sentences.

Still, Paul often had to translate to Greek still, or leave Lukas out of the conversation, which of course would only prolong the time it would take for him to learn English. Looking at Lukas I noticed a shadow over his skull, and stroked it with my hand, his hair was growing in fast, he had a distinct stubble all over now. It felt really nice, and apparently not only to me, for Lukas leaned into my stroking like a cat, nearly purring.

'You'll have a nice head of hair in no time,' I told him, 'what did you two do today?' Lukas, still enjoying my caresses, replied: 'First I slept a bit more, then had breakfast and dressed, then went to Paul's, had breakfast again, and we did some English. Then we had tea with pie, then we went to the workshop. I learned to cut metal, weld it without burning my hands, stoke the furnace, feed it oxygen to make it burn hotter, and I helped Paul cast parts for a new work.

Tomorrow we'll see if they worked out, and he's going to show me how to make a new mold for castings. He thinks I may have a talent for sculpting.

As for the hair, it'll never cover my horns, and Paul says no-one here has horns, and they will not accept it if someone has. Do you think so too?' At this he sat up straight and looked at me, no longer wanting to be stroked. I couldn't lie to him, no matter how harsh the truth: 'I'm sorry Lukas, but Paul is right. No human has horns, most people would even harm you for having them, because they would think you were a devil, the embodiment of evil in our main religion. And the hooves would make it worse, he has those too in every picture ever drawn of him.'

Lukas was clearly disheartened by this: 'So that means I'll have to stay inside and see no-one but you two for the rest of my life? I already miss being outdoors, running and swimming, making love in the woods.' I really felt for him, he was still quite happy here but how long could that last?

He needed space, and other friends and yes, other lovers as well. I held out my arms to him and he quickly sat on my lap and rested his head on my shoulder. To make him feel a bit better quickly I gently rubbed the base of his horns, which had the same effect as my stroking his head, only much stronger, for now he closed his eyes and nearly fell asleep.

I was afraid Paul might not like to see us so intimate in his presence, but as I looked at him he showed as much concern about Lukas as I felt. He did seem to be studying Lukas' reaction to my caresses rather intently, but not in jealousy, more with scientific interest, as became clear when he spoke: 'That part of his horns seems very sensitive.'

I replied: 'It is, much more so than just skin.' 'And the rest of the horn?' he asked. Now Lukas showed an interest again, he clearly understood some English already, and he had followed Paul's thought even though Paul hadn't spoken it yet. 'Only the base is alive, the rest can be trimmed like my hoofs,' he said, looking almost hungry, 'if I grow my hair long and wear clothes and shoes I could go outside.'

'How do you know they can be trimmed, and how far could you do it?' I asked, quite shocked at the thought of such a mutilation but not seeing an alternative, 'and would they grow back like a hoof? Lukas leaned back against me and I started caressing the horn-base again.

He gave me a tiny poke and a knowing look, and I realized he was getting too worked up by my ministrations. So I gave the attention to his stubble instead, and felt him relax again. The thought of him cutting off his horns still upset me, and stroking his head relaxed me too.

He didn't seem concerned by the thought, and answered my questions: 'It is only done as punishment in our society, and not often, for we do not often need to punish or be punished. We are a peaceful people.

But I know it can be done, and I have an idea of how far the life in them goes, like with my hoofs. I feel it. And I think they grow back unless one cauterises the wound with a burning iron, which is done in the criminal's case. If one cuts too deeply it leaves a hole in the skull, for skull and horn are fused together from the age of about half a year. Needless to say that could cause horrid infections, sometimes has in the case of accidents involving horns.'

This was gruesome talk. Would Lukas really be prepared to cut off his horns to be able to go outside and live a relatively normal life? It would not make intimacy easier, during love-play his partner would feel the stumps, and there was no way of hiding those elegant hoofs. I hugged him close, upset by this talk of mutilation.

Paul clearly didn't like it either, though he himself had more or less suggested it as a possibility. He said: 'Well for now it wouldn't do any good anyway, for your hair is still way too short to hide anything. So let's talk about something else, let this rest for a while.'

And we did, until I needed to do my work and went to my own apartment. Lukas stayed in Paul's apartment at my request, studying from his books whilst Paul finished some complicated work that he needed to do in total concentration.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Though I had not expected it, my calculations did indeed not offer an explanation for the feeling of something being wrong at the building site. So I regretfully followed Paul's advice and sent a message to the building council that according to all the building standards, the situation on the site was all right.

I worried about my reputation if something were to happen, and about loss of life or damage to the building, but I couldn't stop the build on a hunch. And when the message was sent, I decided to let it go and enjoy the evening, going downstairs to Paul's workshop, to watch him at work.

It reminded me of a time only a few days ago, when my life was totally different and I looked at him in hopeless admiration. I still admired him and loved to see him work, but I was no longer hopeless, I knew I just needed to give him some time.

When I came in he hardly looked up, I could see he was in a critical process, casting a series of tiny parts out of what seemed to be pure copper. His hair was standing out in all directions, his face was smudged and a few drops of sweat rolled down his forehead. Apparently, he couldn't even wipe them off with his sleeve, he needed both hands on the job.

He had registered my presence, for he said: 'Melissa, would you be so kind as to hand me my pair of orange handled tweezers, from the wall?' I fetched them and laid them within easy reach. 'Thank you, you have saved my life,' he said, and picking them up he used them to adjust one of the molds a tiny bit.

I sat back and kept watching him, after a few minutes he left the molds where they were, and got a tray, which he put on the work table in front of me. 'Here are some castings you can check for flaws', he said.

Then he did wipe his forehead with his sleeve, and messed up his curls even more by running both his hands through them. It made him look irresistible, and I had to really control myself not to stand up and try to get him to kiss me.

Instead, I picked up a figurine of a horse out of the tray, whilst he started to open up another set of molds, carefully removing the shape inside, and filing and sanding it, then giving it a polish with a velvet cloth. I didn't look at the little horse in my hand, I knew it would be exquisitely detailed and full of life, but I was trying to find flaws in it, so I tried to 'feel' it rather than observe it.

When I picked it up it was dark, unpolished, so I hadn't seen the material it was made of. Holding the object in my hand, I tried to reach out to it with my mind, and as I did this, the world around me ceased to exist. The metal seemed to vibrate in a regular rhythm, a pattern.

This pattern was the same throughout the little horse's shape, forming a sort of grid with regular spacings. The spacings did not follow the shape of the little horse, they were exactly the same in every part of its head, neck, body and legs.

Except at the base of the tail, where the grid seemed to narrow, then widen again to the normal grid in the tail. The vibrating grid gave off a ringing tone, which reminded me of a bell, only pitched higher. It gave me a feeling of copper.

Then I heard the sound of filing again, and looked at the shape in my hand. The horse was indeed exquisitely shaped, with an elegant little head complete with eyes and ears and nostrils flaring.

The little mane and tail were streaming, and the legs with their perfectly shaped tiny hooves were flying. But I now knew why it was with the discards, waiting to be re-melted and cast again: the apparently perfect little tail could break off any moment.

Being able to see this made Paul so much better at his craft, he could guarantee his work being free of flaws. I picked up the velvet cloth and rubbed the little horse on the behind, and it shone coppery red. This was fun!

I put the little horse back in the tray, and picked up an ornament, a winding stalk with leaves and flowers, meant to support a bookshelf. Now the filing stopped for a moment, and Paul's voice asked: 'And, do you know what was wrong with the little horse?' I looked up from the ornament and told him: 'The tail could break off any moment. It was not visible on the outside, but I saw it and felt it in the grid inside. I also knew it was copper by the sound of the vibrations inside.'

Paul was impressed, I could see that, but he picked up the velvet cloth and started buffing his casting. He just said: 'Good, that's a good start, and you've got the flower ornament now. Let's see what you make of that.'

The world disappeared again, but this time the grid was denser, and there were fewer vibrations but stronger ones. I thought it was cold iron, I could imagine the inhabitants of faery not liking the strong emanations from it. It made me feel safe and grounded though, clearly an engineer I suppose. The grid had the same density throughout, but in the middle of the ornament was a void. I supposed that was an air-bubble in the casting, of course causing a really weak spot.

This would not carry a load of books, so it was also to be melted down. Paul was still buffing, I couldn't see what his casting was. The flower ornament was beautiful, and of course I already knew it was iron, I could still feel it vibrate in my hands. That sure was strong stuff, how had I ever failed to notice that before?

I felt a little tired now, and asked Paul: 'Is this supposed to make me tired?' He nodded affirmatively and asked: 'What was it this time?' I replied: 'Cold iron, denser grid, stronger vibrations but fewer, I can feel the vibrations even now, it emanates them. There is a hole inside, an air-bubble I guess.' Paul looked really proud now: 'Full marks, you're good at this! Can you handle one more? Then you've earned a rest.'

I looked at him cheekily and said: 'If you give me a kiss.'

That startled him, but he handled himself admirably and retorted: 'When you're done, and only if you get it right.' To accept the challenge, I took a piece out of the tray again, an inlay this time, cast very flat indeed. It was shaped like a dragon, and again so dark I couldn't see what metal it was made of by the colour. I directed my feelings inward and got a different feel altogether.

The grid was regular, but not the same throughout: it had a kind of pattern of larger and smaller parts, and the vibration was composite as well. I thought I recognised part of it as the clear high tone of copper, but the other part was less clear and lower in tone, and the grid seemed denser than copper, but less dense than iron.

And no matter how carefully I checked the grid, I could find no aberrations. I checked it again, then suppressed my natural inclination to accept failure. If I couldn't find a flaw, maybe there just wasn't one! This time, I was really fagged when I came back to the now. Why was this so tiring? Paul looked at me with just a tiny bit of concern, and a great deal of challenge and curiosity: 'And?' he said.

I told him: 'I think it's an alloy of copper, probably bronze, and there is no flaw in it.' Looking at the dragon with my eyes I was stunned how something so thin could be so incredibly detailed. Scales, eyes, little horn extrusions, clawed feel, everything was there. Sighing in awe I looked up, wanting to tell Paul how exquisite it was, but he was much closer than I expected him to be.

He was on his knees, face to my face, and before I could say anything he had both his hands in my hair and he kissed me. The passion in that kiss had me breathless, and it took a while before I realized I should get some air.

Then I answered his kiss with heat, eyes closed, holding his stubbled cheeks in my hands, feeling as much out of this world as a few moments ago but way, way better. I so loved the way he smelled, and now I felt his warm mouth as well and his passionate body against mine. It was heaven. He groaned a little with feeling, clearly no longer able to control himself completely.

I would have loved to let him lose it totally right then and there, but my exercises in magic had clearly taken a lot out of me. I felt my consciousness slipping, holding on to him not to fall, clutching myself to his chest, part blissfully, and partly alarmed at what was happening. But I felt so safe, the kiss broken but in his arms now, that I gave myself up totally for a moment and just clung to him.

When I came to, Paul's face was still very close to me and I was still in his arms. I could not help my feeling of satisfaction, lying where I wanted to, all his attention on me in total, sweet concern. He was sitting on the floor with me in his arms, and I just wanted to stay there forever. He stroked my hair, kissed me lovingly, voicing his concern: 'Dearest, are you okay? I'm sorry I rode you so hard, I should know by now magic does that to people at first. You did so well. I'm so sorry.'

I didn't mind the situation at all, so I said: 'If I end up in your arms, you can ride me this hard any day.' Then I snuggled up to him, determined to make the most of this moment of intimacy. Who knows when I'd get the chance again.

'You should be in bed,' he said, and I, still a bit groggy, replied: 'If you'll be there with me.' Clearly, Paul had great difficulty with that, for he blurted out: 'Why are you doing this to me all the time, tempting me, what would Lukas have to say about that? You love each other, don't you?' Groggy or not, this needed an explanation, for Paul was clearly and needlessly very unhappy about this.

I tried to explain: 'Paul, dearest, Lukas knows I love you as much as I love him, and he doesn't understand why the two of us are not physically involved. He wants us to be together too, he is not a man, he doesn't even know what jealousy is.

His culture is based on love, and on expressing love, always. We won't hurt him. Him and me, we can hurt you, but we already hurt you every time you see us. I know it is hard to comprehend from our culture's viewpoint, but please think about it. And hold me a little longer, then I'll be fine again.' I could see Paul was doing his very best to cope with this knowledge and his own feelings, but it was still too soon. I would have to do without intimacy with him for some time yet. I just hoped it wouldn't damage our friendship or make him really miserable.

Now another voice made itself heard, in broken English this time: 'Melissa is right, we express love where we feel it. If you feel love inside and do not let it out, it hurts you, it hurts her and it hurts even me, for I can feel it.

But I think I realize now what jealousy is, and I can't help you with it. I hope you don't hate me, for I love you too in the way of my people.' Lukas was clearly struggling with the alien concept of jealousy, wanting to make everything right but realizing he was, in a way, the main problem.

But even Paul would not accept that: 'I don't know how much you've heard Lukas, but please realize that this is not your fault or your problem.

If you can share love freely, you're clearly the most deserving. I understand the situation a lot better now and I will try to find my own way in it. Not getting intimate with Melissa for fear of getting hurt has hurt a lot so far, so maybe I should try sharing if you're both willing.'

And having said that in English slowly and carefully, he said something in Greek afterwards, knowing Paul probably the exact translation of what he'd said before. Lukas looked a bit lost, still unsure what to do with an alien situation.

He kneeled next to us, which was a disconcerting sight as his legs were jointed differently, but he managed and wanted to be held by both of us. And who could refuse this innocent creature the love he craved? I certainly couldn't, and Paul did not look forced at all as he embraced Lukas and stroked his stubbled head. Fortunately he stayed clear of the horns, for touching them would have really confused poor Lukas.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I soon felt more awake, but not up to any more magic. So I sat and watched Paul and Lukas work together, the precision work done, Lukas could assist again and ask questions. Paul did brew me nice cup of tea in a blackened kettle on the back of the furnace, touching my hand as he gave me the cup.

I hoped he would dare court me from now on, taking it slow but not denying himself every semblance of love. When the time had come to have dinner, Lukas asked Paul if he could cook in his kitchen, which Paul graciously said yes to. So the three of us moved to the Gothic palace again, where Paul and I sat down at the table and made sheep's-eyes at each other, whilst Lukas moved through the kitchen like a chef and made us a lovely salad with cheese and olives. He served a special kind of bread with it, clearly baked according to his own recipe, which was a natural combination with the salad.

After dinner, we chatted some more and then Lukas and I left early, since I needed sleep more than anything after my magic exercises. Before we left I took the pins out of my hair and let it fall down in its copper-toned wealth, then kissed Paul goodnight. He couldn't help touching it of course, and I felt confident we left him reasonably happy with how matters were.

Back at my apartment Lukas immediately 'lost' his clothes, and I used the opportunity to check the welts on his back. They were healing fine, and I had the distinct feeling he was filling out a bit already. I ran my hands over his mottled back, towards his ribs, and his bones did indeed stick out a little less.

Laughingly he remarked: 'Am I being appraised for the cattle market, mistress?' I replied: 'Yes, you need a bit more flesh on you before you fetch a good price,' and I ran my hands decidedly lower than his ribs, feeling his flat stomach and the insides of his legs, then cupping his testicles carefully. His penis didn't rise at that, because it had already at my first touch.

I embraced him from behind, pressing my body close to him. 'You feel...dressed,' he observed, turning around in my arms and touching me with his glorious erection. He started to undo my buttons, kissing me at the same time. There were a lot of buttons, so it was a long kiss.

But finally my jacket, blouse and skirt came loose, and he put them away carefully, not conscious at all of his naked body and his rather large erection. Then he removed the rest of my clothes, caressed my creamy, naked curves, and took a careful hold of my breasts.

' You have the most beautiful breasts ever,' he breathed, kissing me again and rubbing his whole body against me, his penis hard against my thighs. Of course I was horny already, but he had my lust rising and rising, making me forget how tired I had been not half an hour ago. 'Shall we shower together,' he asked, 'I have sweated a lot and I'd like to freshen up before we warm your bed.'

That sounded wonderful, so I nodded and went that way, with him following me, touching me where he could, kissing me every few steps.

But we did manage to reach the shower, and it was really nice and warm, and very relaxing. I would have become very sleepy really soon, but Lukas didn't let me. He kept my lust up and rising by caressing me, kissing me and exploring my wet body all over again.

I still felt that wrench when he kneeled before me, but when he spread my legs a bit and started to fondle my clitoris with his tongue I soon forgot about his weird looking knees in my rising heat. When I had a climax I wanted to have his large member in my mouth, so I kneeled between his slim legs and as he stood up I took hold of it and put my warm moist mouth all over it and used my tongue as well. He enjoyed that of course, moving along a little in a slow rhythm. I was afraid the hot water would soon run out, so after a short time I suggested we'd dry off and move to the bed.

A cold shower was not my idea of a stimulant, though it would wake me up. He hadn't realized the water would turn cold, but when I told him he was very ready to move. I dried his back, and he did mine, and we kissed a lot during the process.

Finally we were done, and as we neared the bed, he proposed I lay on it with my upper body, but with my knees on the floor. That idea exited me a lot, so I did that quickly. Immediately I felt him enter me from behind, which was as exiting as I expected. He pumped happily for a while, but apparently it was not totally to his liking, for he disconnected, turned me around and guided my legs on his shoulders. Then he used his tongue and a few of his nimble fingers again to bring me to a noisy high, and then he entered me again, still kneeled beside the bed, now thrusting forcefully, with that high still resounding in my body, building on it until I came again in a wave of little shocks. That was to his liking, and he laughed out loud as he speeded up, clearly stronger now he wasn't emaciated anymore, keeping it up long enough to give me another lingering climax. But of course he did drive himself hard enough to collapse on me with a moan.

That wasn't really comfortable on the edge of the bed, so we wriggled to lie on it still connected, and we laid like that for quite a long time.

When I felt sleep approaching rapidly, I let it come, knowing he'd find a place beside me, entangling me in his arms and legs. And wondering what kind of surprise he'd wake me with the next morning, I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of grids and singing metals, and not of collapsing buildings and ruined reputations. Fortunately.

That morning I woke to the smell of coffee rather than to an erotic fantasy, which gave me just a twinge of disappointment, followed by an enormous feeling of happiness when I found Lukas beside the bed with a tray with breakfast for two.

He smiled from ear to ear at my reaction to his surprise. After a nice good-morning kiss he said: 'I have already recovered so well thanks to your loving, I can surprise you in a different way.' He did indeed look a lot better, still skinny but not unhealthily so, with a lot more colour to his unmottled face, and even to the patterned parts of his skin.

His hair was growing back in rapidly, and I stroked it lovingly. It felt nice. He put the tray down and handed me a steaming cup of coffee, then lay down next to me with a cup of his own.

We took a little time to enjoy our breakfast together, then I washed and dressed, trying all the time not to think too much about the building. Would it still be standing, would they start covering it with glass today? I felt a nuzzle in my neck, and Lukas' voice breathed in my ear: 'Don't think about it. Even if something has happened, there is nothing you could have done about it. People have to trust you for your Gift to be useful.'

'Gift?' I asked him. 'That's what we call a magical talent,' he replied, 'Yours is developing rapidly, I can already see a little of it, like I saw a lot of it in Paul. ' 'And you couldn't see it a few days ago?' I asked. He replied: 'No, I couldn't, so it has strengthened a lot the last few days. Or it may be my strength coming back, and my hair.

Somehow my own Gift seems connected to my hair.' I was puzzled: 'I didn't know you had one of these Gifts too.' He explained: 'I have not yet been able to perform active magic, but I have always had an uncanny ability to hide myself, even in plain sight. That is an unconscious form of magic-use.

My captors shaved me after I had nearly escaped after fooling them into starting a fight amongst themselves. They knew.' I had a revelation: 'Is that why I couldn't immediately see you behind the hearth? You're actually quite large to hide behind it.'

He thought about it, and said: 'That may be, though I was so weakened and with my hair shaven I wonder if I had any magic left. I am very skilled in hiding as well, I used to be in trouble all the time.' This was interesting talk, but I had to go to work.

Lukas did add: 'If I can see your Gift, anyone with the talent can see it in you as well. Paul will have to teach you to shield soon, preferably today. Don't trust strangers or even people you know when they offer you things. Predators catch their prey with seduction, at least at first.' That was such a scary and unreal thought that I decided to not ask what a predator was when in a hurry, but just be careful and trust my common sense.

I kissed him, tickling the base of his horns, sending a shock of passion through him. He fired up in a second, lifting me with much more ease than his slight frame and my solid one suggested, and squeezed me, groaning at me: 'Aah, you minx, you tempt me to make you late for work!' I kissed him again, and promised: 'I'll be back before you know it.' And then I left reluctantly.

The twenty minute walk was not as pleasant as it usually was, despite the lovely spring weather. My mind kept going around and around, alternately telling itself that without the so-called Gift I wouldn't even have known about the flaw, and warning me it would be my fault if lives were lost. A bit dis-concertedly I entered the building site, afraid of what I might see.

Most probably nothing remarkable, the building would likely not collapse until the weight of the glass was added, maybe not even then. The structure might hold for months or even years, or not even a day.

And I had to look twice to believe what was really going on: the offending support had been braced with thick temporary beams from four sides, and metal workers were in the process of removing the support itself. A replacement was lying within reach, and a large winch was erected over the site. They were going to replace the faulty support!

I was incredibly relieved and flattered they had taken my concerns seriously, even though I had admitted they were not supported by the facts I had gathered myself. I did hope they'd find a flaw in that support once it had been replaced, and I was dying to get my hands on it, to check it myself with my newly found skills.

As soon as I was spotted, the architect and the overseer came towards me. Seeing the relief on my face the overseer observed: 'Miss Thorn, you didn't think I wouldn't believe you because you couldn't prove your doubts? I had a hard time convincing the parties involved, but the image of the building collapsing that I presented them with, with or without loss of life, was too much for them to bear in the end.'

We spent an hour watching the actual replacement of the large support, quite an operation, and when the flawed support finally rested on the ground, I approached it carefully. It still felt wrong, and I now recognised the buzzing feeling as the typical emanations of cold iron, enhanced to a level that was palpable to me even without going into a trance.

I decided to openly 'feel' the support even though I might fall into a trance scanning it for flaws. If I was to do this more often, the people on the building site would just have to accept seeing me like that.

Doing it in secret would be very difficult on this busy site, and if someone were to see me it might even look like sabotage. So I sat down in a comfortable position and laid my hands on it. The force of the emanations from such a large piece of flawed hard iron hit me harder than I expected, and I had to brace myself not to fall.

My mind had to wrestle the iron to be able to see the dense grid within. It took a long time to scan the entire piece, but I could feel the direction in which the problem lay, which made it easier to find. What I saw filled me with incredible relief and quite a bit of pride: there was a long, narrow cavity throughout the foot of the beam, a casting flaw that reduced the bearing strength of the support to a fraction of the force it would have to withstand to keep the building up once the weight of the glass was added.

I had been right, and I could prove it!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Coming back from my light trance, I scanned the little crowd that had gathered to watch me work, to find the face of the overseer, and tell him he had saved the building.

Seeing him quite close, he clearly seemed a bit concerned at the sudden weariness on my face, caused by the wrestling match between the cold iron and my magic.

I fixed his gaze in mine, and said in a loud, clear voice: 'John, I need to thank you for your trust in me. You have saved my reputation, the building and who knows how many lives. If you saw through this support at this point here before it is re-melted and recast into something else, you'll find a cavity, a casting error, of at least twelve inches long and three inches wide, reducing the bearing capacity of this support to practically nothing.'

All the faces were a study in amazement. Of course that would only increase when they found the cavity for real. This would either make my reputation as building expert, or get me ostracised from the community as witch.

But for me there was no choice, I had taken this job to save lives, and save lives I would, openly. I didn't stay to watch the support hauled off to the iron works, I knew John would supervise the check himself, his neck was on the block even more than mine. He had bullied his superiors, virtually blackmailed them into complying with his demands to have a safe building. He needed to be proven right as much as myself.

I inspected the new support, found it flawless, and decided there and then to check the cast iron parts before they were used from now on. If I still had a job tomorrow.

Pretending nothing had happened, I discussed the glass panelling schedule with the architect and the contractors. They looked at me with a mixture of awe and doubt, which I ignored. When the inspection was done, I decided to call it a day.

The use of magic had tired me, and it was nearly time anyway. I asked the architect to send a messenger over as soon as the results of the test were known, and he promised. He could clearly see the results of my struggle with the iron, for he asked: 'Shall I send someone with you to see you home safely? You look very worn out.'

I thanked him for his concern, but politely declined, I would be fine once I got some sleep. And I felt much better already when I left the building site, relieved the danger had been averted, and only slightly concerned about the consequences of my open use of magic. I counted on people not wanting to believe in the supernatural, denying what they had seen and only believing the result. The lovely spring day soon caught me in its spell, and I decided to do some shopping straight away, to stay outside a little longer.

This made me feel for Lukas, cooped up inside, stronger now and aching for a good run to stretch his legs and get rid of some of his accumulated energy. Maybe I could feel the structure of his horns too, discern if it would be safe to trim them. But the very thought of taking his horns, his manliness, from him made me sick to the stomach, and I decided to get him some nice cheese and olives to make up a little for the things he missed.

When word came later that day that a large casting error had indeed been found in the support, the news spread fast throughout the small world of the builders in town. As I had hoped, my discovery had been credited to some sixth sense, and my reputation as building inspector was made.

My boss apologized for advising me to ignore the feeling, and my services were in high demand. Checking metal for flaws became easier and less tiring quickly, and Paul had started my education on shielding after a hint from Lukas.

Lukas sat in on these classes, improving his English by listening and asking questions, and preparing for the possibility of his own talent awakening further. We filled our days with work, learning or teaching magic, socialising together. Paul and I stayed on much the same footing, stealing a kiss now and then, hugging and sitting together and holding hands, as if we were teenagers in love for the first time, desperately in love but way too shy to do something about it.

I got used to Paul taking a lot of time before he moved our intimacy up a notch, enjoying his attentions and still making passionate love to Lukas regularly.

Lukas became ever stronger, but his restlessness increased linearly to his strength. I felt very sorry for him, but I couldn't think of a solution to his problem besides trying to make his 'captivity' bearable.

Then one day I came home from work, and something was not right, all was very quiet, when usually I could hear the furnace roaring or a hammer ringing or the sound of filing. Lukas was quite an able craftsman himself by now, and well on his way to his own style.

He helped Paul with his commissions, and in return got instruction and materials to make his own pieces. They had made the promised centre piece for my living-room together in the first week, a semblance of the mirror but made of metal instead. The workmanship was superb, and obviously still Paul's, but Lukas was developing a distinctive style of his own now.

He had sold some pieces through Paul, and had given me a share of the income for food and rent, and kept some to invest. But he was not really happy, he clearly felt caged, with early summer on us. He never took it out on me, he just became quiet, only seeming to come to life when we were making love and he could exert himself.

The silence was deafening, and it gave me an uncomfortable feeling, a kind of prescience of something bad. Climbing the stairs, I came to my own door, put my bag and my coat where they were supposed to be, then ran down the stairs again to Paul's door. I didn't even have to knock before he opened it, and he did not look happy.

'What happened?' I gasped, now stressed to my limits with anxiety, 'something bad has happened, hasn't it? You look fine, so it's Lukas. Where is he?' Paul, looking grey and very tired, didn't try to calm me down but rather went in, expecting me to follow him. We took the stairs down to the living area, and I followed Paul to the sofa with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Lukas was hanging on the couch, conscious but moaning in pain. His face was grey. I ran towards him and kneeled before him, taking his hands. When he looked up to see me, I nearly fainted. I saw his head with his now plentiful tight brown curls, but one of his proud horns was missing, and in the place of the other there was a bloody cloth. His hair was matted with blood, and he looked more dead than alive.

I heard myself crying out: 'What have you done?' It was Lukas himself who answered me in a near-whisper: 'I wanted to go outside, so I had Paul trim my horns as he trimmed my feet. It didn't work out as I planned.'

He held his arms out to me feebly, so I sat next to him and took him in my arms. Then I looked at Paul and asked him: 'How bad is it? Will he..'

Paul, looking nearly as bad as Lukas in stress and guilt, shook his head. 'I don't think it's that bad, but he has lost a lot of blood and he is in terrible pain. He needs a doctor, but how could we? It's just too dangerous.

The pain medication I have doesn't seem to work, and I'm afraid of infection. I'm so sorry Melissa, you trusted me to take care of him, and I failed miserably.'

I just couldn't understand why Lukas hadn't asked me to examine his horns first, I had a solid reputation now for seeing through all kinds of materials. Of course I didn't know if I could see through horn as well as metals and stone, but I could have tried, and I said so.

Lukas seemed to shrink into himself even more as he answered weakly: 'I didn't want you to know, I thought you'd try to stop me, you never wanted to even discuss it.' It pained me to see him cowed as well as terribly hurt, and my fear and shock took over and I started to cry quietly.

He was right, I had never wanted to discuss it, even when I could see how unhappy he was. In a small voice he asked: 'Will you stroke me a little?' I caressed his curls, his stubbled cheeks, his dear face. I needed the comfort myself. What if we lost him, what would I do?

Paul had sat down next to me, and comforted me as I held Lukas. My stroking seemed to help Lukas' pain, or maybe Paul's medicine had finally started to work, for Lukas slowly relaxed and dozed off. His breathing was regular, his pulse was strong, and his temperature was normal, so I willed myself to calm down and weigh the options.

I said: 'Will you tell me what happened Paul, and do you think I should 'feel' the stumps to see if I can learn something more, of what to do now?' He nodded, replied: 'I'll tell you first, then you decide.

We had breakfast in my kitchen as usual, then worked on that big boiler together. Suddenly he told me he saw no possible way to ever find his home again, time, place or reality, and that he was desperately unhappy despite having you to love and nice work to do. So he had decided he would adapt to our society even further, having already gotten used to wearing clothes, having learned English and a craft to make a living at.

He now wanted me to remove his horns so he could exercise outside and be among people. I didn't want to do it at first, not without you present and approving. But he told me he was his own person, and I couldn't deny that. He told me it would be easy, he drew a mark on each horn to where it would be safe to cut it. Any shorter, he said, and it would bleed and there would be a hole in his skull as result. That didn't do much to give me faith, but he was so sure it would be fine, I did it.

I'm starting to think he 'nudged' me into it, gave me a little mental push. If so, he's very subtle, for I never noticed. Also, it's not very ethical, we don't allow it in our community.

Anyway, I marked the horn clearly where he had indicated, and he braced himself against the anvil. I used the fine toothed saw. The first one went reasonably well, except that he hadn't told me it would hurt like hell.

He didn't scream but I could tell he was in agony,. I couldn't stop with his horn half through though, that would be asking for infections.

The first one done, the pain seemed to go away quickly, and the stump did indeed disappear under his hair. He wanted me to start on the other one straight away, I protested, but I agreed anyway.

I think we'll have to have a talk about ethics as soon as he's a bit better. I didn't even notice, I realize only now. The other one hurt even worse, and when it came off, blood spurted out and he fainted. I managed to stop the flow, but he had lost a lot of blood and when he came to he was in agony and very weak.

I couldn't see a hole through his skull, but it can still get infected, threatening his life.' At this point I decided it was time to touch the stumps, trying to 'feel' their structure. I started with the one that had been a success, if one could call this mutilation a success.

I could feel Paul steadying me, and searched through the curls to find the stump and touched it. I did feel something, there was no grid or tone, but a structure like roof-tiles, layer over layer of flattened shapes. This was the outside layer, the dead horn so to speak.

The inside was clearly living tissue, a flow of small bits of several different shapes and sizes beneath the 'roof' of roof-tiles. The flow went round, coming up and going down. I got a colour impression of clear red. I felt no wrongness or weak points, though the top layer of roof-tiles was damaged.

This stump seemed relatively unscathed, despite the pain Lukas suffered. I decided to use the feel of this stump to compare the damaged one to.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

When I came back to myself, Paul was holding me tenderly, his worries and weariness finally getting the better of his self-control. I realized he had been through a lot, too, having done this to his friend, seeing him terribly hurt and having to deal with the consequences, and only now realising that he had been manipulated into doing it.

I decided to take a few minutes to comfort him first, Lukas was fast asleep and he didn't bleed through the cloth. It was Paul's turn now. I turned towards him as well as I could, and returned his embrace, guiding his head to my shoulder and stroking his curls, kissing his face and finally, his lips.

He answered my kiss eagerly, though not exactly passionately, the situation was too serious for passion. When we both had received some comfort from our intimacy, we broke off the kiss and turned our attention back to our dear friend.

I carefully removed the cloth and braced myself for what I would get to see. The wound started to bleed again sluggishly, and I put the cloth back, keeping pressure on it until the bleeding stopped again. I said: 'This won't work, I'll have to work around the cloth,' and I did.

Touching the stump, I started to look for the similarities with the healthy one, and soon found the same roof-tile structure around a flowing centre. But of course, the roof was missing here, and the flow was directed upward mainly instead of going back down again. Without the cloth, my dear lover would bleed out, that much was clear.

One of the components of the flow, biggish squares, were stuck together in several places, apparently trying to repair the damage, but not succeeding because the power of the upward flow was too strong. There was no sign of infection yet, bleeding was the main problem, and I thought the square parts would be able to stop the gap with a bit of help.

I knew what to do, and Paul would have to deliver it.

Back with Paul, I told him: 'I've seen what the problem is, and without your help he will bleed out. His body is trying to stop the blood-flow, but the gap is too large and the flow too strong. We will need to help it.

You will have to make a cap for the stump, directing the flow in the horn down again. The square bits in his blood will then close the leaks and hopefully keep infection out. I don't think Paul understood what I said, but he was eager to do something to help.

He asked: 'Do you have silver or gold? Copper and even bronze are poisonous when in direct contact to blood.' I didn't hesitate for a second and told him: 'I have a jewellery-case in my cupboard in the bedroom. Take what looks the purest to you and use it to save Lukas.

The cap needs to close the hole, you're the artist, you can make it work.' Paul replied: 'I will bring it here and we'll select the best parts together. You know metals as well as I do by now.

I want to take some extra time to make the cap beautiful, Lukas wouldn't like to wear something that is just functional, can we spare the time?' I checked his vitals, deciding the bleeding had stopped and finding his pulse still strong and said: ' Yes please, Paul. He would appreciate that. Would you mind carrying him upstairs to our bed first?

He cannot stay on a couch, he will have to rest for some time I'm afraid.'

Paul looked at me apologetically, and replied: 'I know I promised you not to show you my bedroom until I was ready to become physically intimate with you. Will you mind my breaking that promise under the circumstances, and take Lukas to my own bed instead? It is large enough for all of us, and he will need a lot of care that will be easier to share.'

Touched, I told him: 'I will not mind at all, I didn't want to impose upon you but it will be much easier to share.' I didn't think Lukas would be up to much lovemaking in the state he was in. 'Could you move him first, and then hunt out the jewellery and make the cap?'

In answer, he carefully lifted Lukas off my lap, giving me time to get up and keep the pressure on the cloth covering the wound. Lukas mumbled a little when he was lifted, but he did not wake up. He was not very heavy, being so skinny, but I didn't feel comfortable lifting him up a stairs, and Paul was very strong from his work at the forge, so he carried Lukas upstairs easily, opening the door of his bedroom with an elbow.

The bedroom was not what I had imagined from the rest of his Gothic palace. It was rather stark and bare in comparison, with whitewashed walls and a plain wood floor. The bed was huge but not a four-poster with beautiful metalwork as I expected, rather a really thick mattress with no visible frame.

I didn't look around more, for by now Paul had carefully laid Lukas on the lush bed, covering him with a pristine white duvet. I sat on the bed beside him, stroking his curls. Paul brought some towels, saying: 'If he starts bleeding again, here are some clean towels. Don't worry about the duvet, Lukas is worth a lot more to me.' I handed him the keys, and kissed him once more, a bit sad that circumstances were keeping us apart once more.

After the kiss, Paul left. I looked around me, and saw that the starkness of the room was not that. The room was decorated, only very subtly, with structures and textures instead of colours and with beautiful woods and textiles instead of precious metals and intense labour.

There were three landscape paintings in water colours on the walls, very minimalistic, of steep hills clad with thick forest, dotted with wooden houses built in an almost alien style. I was really curious about their origins, but at that moment Lukas woke up a bit, watching me silently from under his blood-soaked curls. He felt for my hand with one of his, and I took it in both mine.

He spoke softly: 'That was a foolish thing to do, I'm sorry Melissa, I should have asked you. Why do I feel so weak?' I barely kept myself from crying, and answered: 'You've lost a lot of blood dearest. I think we've found a solution, Paul's working on it. Are you in pain?'

Lukas blinked, and said in surprise: 'Actually, I'm not, must be that painkiller finally working. What is this place?' I replied: 'It's Paul's bedroom, it was closer than ours.'

That didn't go well with Lukas: 'Now I feel even more guilty. You weren't supposed to see that yet. Melissa, I nudged him to do it, he didn't want to without you present. He was right, and now I've taken his moment with you as well. I can't ever face him again.'

Though I felt for him, I was glad of his guilt, for it meant he was thinking clearly and not near death, and also, he apparently did have some morals to work with. I wrapped my arms around him carefully, kissed him wherever I dared, and said: 'Paul knows you nudged him, and you'll get a lecture for that once you're a bit better.

And as for seeing the bedroom, we'll find another way to make our first time special. Don't worry, just try to get better. You scared us.' Lukas now said: 'I'll be fine, you'll see.'

And with that, he fell asleep again, still breathing regularly, with a normal temperature and his heart beating strongly. But I still worried.

Then Paul came in with my jewellery box, and looked at me with longing before he sat down next to me. Together we checked the contents, and we decided to sacrifice a thick silver bracelet that was very pure in its silver-content.

'Gold would be slightly better, but I'd need to use every bit you have an purify it first. That would take too much time, and I find silver a better match for our friend,' he said, and I agreed totally. 'I'll melt it down, then beat it into shape. I can make two caps out of the bracelet, but I'll do the second one later. It will take me at least an hour, for I need to boil it clean as well. I thought of using glue to fasten it?'

That seemed wisest to me also, and I told him so. He put the box to the side and left with the bracelet. The challenge had clearly made him forget some of his worries, and I pictured him at his forge, whistling and making ornamentation. But how would he make it to fit without taking measurements?

Then I thought of the horn ends, he probably still had them in his workshop. I decided to snuggle close to Lukas, give him as much love and warmth as I could, and even dozed a bit, tired of the shock.

I woke up from my doze with a well-known hot feeling between my legs. That couldn't be? But it was. My badly hurt goat-like lover was still motionless on the top side, he even seemed asleep, innocent face, now even more innocent from the lack of horns sticking out of his mop of curls, still a bit slack, the bloody cloth still in place, fortunately.

But the lower side had manoeuvred itself between my legs, my underwear had been moved aside, I guess by a nimble hand, and I was totally filled up with his penis in the way I knew and liked so well. This must truly be a survival instinct, I thought, if he does it without being conscious.

It still felt really good, and not just to me, for Lukas's face was no longer sleepy now but positively lustful and he groaned a bit. I decided not to give myself up to passion this time, but to keep an eye on his vitals and especially his open stump. There was no use to him making love to gain strength, if it caused his wound to start bleeding again.

So I spread my legs a bit more to give him easy access in a way that would allow his upper body to remain still, and kept a close eye on the cloth that kept his horn from bleeding him out. He took it a lot easier than usual, but even so I felt my passion rising fast. The weirdness of it all was almost too much to take in, but my body couldn't care less.

It started to move in time with his thrusting, and now I got a reaction from the face. Lukas smiled at me broadly, apparently not feeling his state when he was making love. 'I'm sorry love, that was my body surviving again,' he said, not apologetically at all.

'Mind your head,' I said, 'I don't want to lose you.' He only said: 'I will, don't worry. I want to make love to you in the forest, and whilst swimming.' And then he speeded up, and I had a hard time not losing myself in bliss, but I managed.

When he came, he was dead tired, but he looked less bad than I expected, and at least he didn't bleed. He stayed awake long enough to kiss me and thank me, then he was asleep in a second. I smoothed my underwear and skirt, and snuggled up beside him again, ready for action when Paul came back with the cap.

Which didn't take long, apparently I had slept for some time. I carefully crept out of the bed, and joined him to admire his handiwork in the hall, where it was light. It was beautifully made, the silver shone on a relief of people making love in the most intriguing positions.

Around this scene was an ornamentation of geometrical shapes. The edges were slightly lowered, designed to fit over the stump and keep out infections. He also carried a pot of strong glue and a feather to apply it with. A large pair of tweezers completed the outfit.

He carefully put down the stuff, feather and cap protected by a meticulously clean cloth. Then he asked me if I was hungry. I told him: 'No, but I need to use the privy before doing anything that takes time and requires precision.' So I did, and he opened the curtains to let in as much light as possible and put his stuff within reach.

I woke up Lukas, and told him we were going to close off his wound with a silver cap, and to let us know if we hurt him too much. Then I sat on his other side with a cloth to keep the bleeding down whilst Paul was working, ready to 'feel' if the cap was set right.

Lukas was sleepy but aware. Paul gave him another pillow behind his head, to keep it in the right position. 'Keep nice and still now, Lukas, I'm going to glue something on your stump,' he said quietly, and dipped the feather in the glue.

Lukas sounded really small as he told Paul: 'I'm sorry I nudged you Paul, made you do this to me. And you're nice even now, saving my sorry life.' Paul retorted: 'Oh, I'll get my value out of you yet, mate, and to do that you need to be strong and healthy.'

But he relented and told Lukas: 'I love you too, Lukas, and I'd do a lot more to save you.' And then he nodded to me to remove the bloody cloth, which I did, wiping the wound clean and keeping the blood welling up from obscuring Paul's view. He spread the glue on the sides and on the bone part of the top with the feather, then without the slightest hesitation pressed the silver cap on top of the glue and clamped it shut with the tweezers.

I gave the cloth to Paul, to clear any spilled glue off Lukas' stump or hair. And I touched the base of the stump, to 'feel' how the cap fit the horn. Searching out the flow in the horn, I followed it up to the point where it touched the silver of the cap.

The flow was resuming its natural course, going down again instead of just up. And where it contacted the silver cap those square things in the flow were already starting to accumulate to form a kind of barrier between the flow and the silver. I'd check again tonight.

Coming out of the trance I felt Lukas take my hand. He asked: 'Did it work?' I looked at him from the outside, and despite the blood still matting his hair, he did look better. The bleeding had clearly stopped, and with the silver cap the horn-stump didn't look as sad. Paul answered: 'It looks like it worked, from the outside, how was it from inside?

I replied: 'It looked like the other horn, except some substance inside the flow of the horn was sticking to the silver, but I got a feeling that was supposed to happen. I'll check again tonight. Now I'd like to get something to eat.'

But clearly we had mistaken Lukas, for he was not at all concerned about his health, he wanted to know if something else had worked: 'I know I will live, I feel much better already. I meant, can I go outside, are my horns gone?'

Paul and I laughed helplessly, relieved our friend had his cheekiness back, but also worried what would happen when we released him on the world outside. Paul shook his head and fetched a mirror, holding it in front of Lukas: 'See for yourself.' Lukas did, clearly quite satisfied with the result, pain and shock apparently already forgotten.

Pushing his springy curls away from the stump with the silver cap, he studied it in the mirror, touching it very carefully with his hands. He closed his eyes, tears leaking from under his eyelids, giving me a big lump in my throat.

Despite having chosen to do this, it must be a difficult sight, to have one's body so desecrated. Paul's thoughts were clearly very similarly occupied, and he put the mirror away and sat next to Lukas, to comfort him for his loss. Lukas embraced him, still seized by emotion, openly crying now, and whispered: 'Paul thank you so much! I look quite human now, soon I will feel sun and wind on my face again. You have saved my life twice today.'

Paul looked at me in stunned amazement and I'm sure I mirrored his expression exactly. He didn't miss his horns at all, he just wanted to fit in. He cried out of happiness! We both shrugged, then laughed. Lukas wanted to have a bite to eat too, but he was still too weak to stand up. So we fetched some dinner from the kitchen and ate it right there.

After dinner, Paul helped Lukas up another flight of stairs to our own apartment, where he nagged us until we allowed him a hot shower. According to Paul, the glue would be dry by now, so there wasn't much risk involved.

After the shower he went to our own bed, Paul had offered we could stay with him, but finding Lukas' randiness restored, I wasn't going to let that happen. Paul was holding up amazingly under the intimacy Lukas and I shared, but I was not going to have him watch us making love.

I suppose Lukas understood that, for he went without complaint, and fell asleep immediately. I was not planning to go to sleep already, I wanted to help Paul clear up the mess and also spend some time with him, our feelings had been thoroughly shaken and I thought we needed some time together to get them settled again.

A good cleaning usually quieted me down nicely, and when I suggested it to Paul he took to my idea immediately. Asking him to wait a few moments, I changed into an old dress that I kept especially for cleaning, much more comfortable than my work-suit. Then I took down my hair and pulled it back with a simple ribbon, feeling much more relaxed immediately. Ready to go now, I checked on Lukas one more time, and found him sleeping peacefully, his pulse and temperature fine.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

We started in the basement. Paul had plenty of hot water from his large boiler, and also all kinds of cleaning materials, for with the precise jobs he did there an immaculate workspace was a requirement. Fortunately it was still quite light outside, and even in the basement we could see very well that cleaning thoroughly was no luxury, for there was blood everywhere.

Seeing that made me realize how bad the situation had been, and I took Paul's hand in sympathy for what he had been through. Seeing the shock on my face, he said: 'It looks really bad, doesn't it? Poor Lukas.'

I didn't want to think about what it had looked like, Lukas in agony, his life's blood spurting out of his damaged horn. So I grabbed hold of a cleaning rag and started to scrub away at the walls and the cupboards, cleaning off all the spatters until everything was squeaky clean. Paul cleaned the anvil and the tools, the workbench, the floor.

Forgetting our fear and shock, he was the first to speak: 'I'm afraid we're in for an interesting time when Lukas hits the streets.' I couldn't help agreeing: 'He'll be in trouble as soon as he gets out. I hope we can teach him enough to keep him alive.' Paul asked: 'How will you cope when he starts having affairs?'

My reply was probably not what he expected: 'I hope he will realize he'll have to keep his shoes on, and not to let them ruffle his hair too much. If they discover his hoofs or his horn stumps he'll be in incredible trouble. Or his tail.'

At this, Paul exclaimed: 'He has a tail as well?' I suddenly realized Paul had never seen him naked, except when he showered, but that was in a dark room. I replied: 'A very cute, short tail. Anyone making love to him may see or feel it anytime.' Paul groaned: 'We're in even more trouble than I realized.'

I told him: 'I'll try to stay with him the first times, and explain a lot of things about our society. Let's hope he believes me. As for him loving other people: I expect nothing else of him, I know he will. If it hurts me, that is my problem.'

Paul dropped his cloth in the bucket, the cleaning was done, and it was getting dark now. He dried his hands on his trouser legs and laid an arm on my shoulder: 'I'll be there for you whatever happens.' Drying my own hands on my old dress, I stepped closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder, and said: 'I'm happy to hear that, for I love you, and I want to be with you.'

We kissed, and like this afternoon, he didn't hold back as much, the intensity of the day seemed to have undermined his iron will, allowing his true feelings to come through. I felt a shiver of presentiment, was this going to be our night?

If so, it was not yet to be. We emptied the buckets and rinsed them out, then went upstairs to deal with the bedroom. It was weird to go there again, the place where it was supposed to happen, but didn't after all. There was not much blood here, just some tools and a few bloodied cloths.

Paul cleaned the tools and ran downstairs to put them in their rightful place. We threw the worst cloths in a bin, put the salvageable ones in a bucket of cold water. Then he made us tea and we sat on his couch for a well-deserved rest.

Holding hands was not enough anymore, not after a day like this. I suddenly found myself in Paul's arms, in an embrace stronger than I had ever felt, but strangely that was just what I needed. His voice sounded different, passionate, as he told me: 'I just can't do it anymore, Melissa, keep my distance.

I know you never wanted me to, and now I can only think of how I want you with me.'

The strange thing was, that I had just accepted getting only tiny bits of love from him, and the thought of getting all of it at once kind of overwhelmed me. I did not want him to supplicate, he had amazed me once again today with his competence, and I liked to see him strong and in the lead.

At the same time I knew that his refusal to make love from the start was rooted in insecurity, even though it took superhuman control.

I decided to stop thinking, and take what he offered, for I loved him madly still, even though I had gotten used to keeping that love bottled up, so I looked at him with the love I felt.

After a moment of uncertainty at my hesitation, Paul regained his air of careless competence that I loved so much, and said: 'Though you have inadvertently already seen my bedroom, my home has one more surprise in store for you. Will you allow me to take you to my bathroom?'

He had done it again. I thought him vulnerable, but he was already in charge again, leading me to the back of his living-room and through a beautifully decorated door, to the real room of wonders. No boiler here, but a huge tub of exquisitely worked bronze, set in wooden decking, with bronze pipes leading to a series of taps.

Opening them, hot steaming water streamed into the tub, as well as non-steaming water, probably cold. The tub filled quickly, and Paul produced two towels from a corner. The walls of the room were tiled in mosaic, some in geometrical patterns, some in classical scenes.

There was even a horned man in one of the scenes, gifted with a full head of curls and a huge, erect penis. I looked at Paul in surprise, and he slowly walked towards me, looking at me almost in adoration. He became shy and tongue-tied again, really seeing me again in a dress, my voluptuous body overwhelming his confidence.

I took the ribbon out of my hair, knowing what my hair would add to the picture. His breathing stopped for a moment, and he stood absolutely still.

He didn't say a word, but he touched my hair in reverent silence, sending a flash of heat through me. Then he asked in a husky voice: 'May I undress you?' I nodded my consent, but didn't wait for him to start.

I slowly and carefully unbuttoned his shirt, and when his chest was revealed I caressed his chest, and his shoulders, his neck. I could smell his scent intensifying, and my heated feeling rose. Licking a nipple, I felt him shiver in response. I kissed and smelled his neck, his stubble, his curly hair. His lust had taken over as well, and he started on my dress, which had laces in front, keeping my full breasts barely in check.

He opened the laces, and they promptly spilled out, daring him to touch them, their unblemished white skin tempting like nothing else. He took their challenge, taking one in each hand, they overflowed even though his hands were a good size. First, he held his face between them, enveloping him in their soft heaviness, in their enticing smell. Then, he took one in his mouth, first licking the nipple, then sucking on it a tiny bit. It sent a shock through me, straight between my legs. A moan escaped my lips.

Below the laced part, my dress was held closed with buttons, which he cleverly undid with just one hand, the other still exploring my breasts. Then, he guided the dress over my head, shyness and awkwardness totally gone. I was now naked, but for my underwear, stockings and my long, copper-coloured hair.

The way he looked at my voluptuous pale flesh was almost worshipful. That unsettled me a little, so I decided it was time he was out of his pants as well.

I got his shirt off him, then started on his trousers. They were buttoned and quickly loosened. His stomach was totally flat, and not with emaciation, but with muscle. Forging was hard work, and it showed.

The smell of his body made me feel like I was in heaven. Stroking his muscled, slightly hairy stomach, I moved my hands down towards his crotch, taking his pants, and his underpants, with me. Soon, he was as naked as I was, and as perfect a specimen, though less fleshy.

He started to remove my underpants, and like me, he made a show out of it, caressing every part he passed by, kissing it, tasting it. Soon, they were gone, and he was kneeling between my legs, making room by spreading them, just like Lukas. Of course this excited me incredibly, and when he finally spread my labia and applied his tongue where it mattered, I didn't know what to do with the intensity of the feelings he created. They started high, and rose quickly.

Now the bath was nearly full, and he turned off the taps. He guided me towards the entrance of the tub, totally naked, with his penis as erect as the man on the mosaic. The water was really hot, and it took a while to get used to the temperature, but when we were both immersed, he continued his exploration of my intimate parts with his tongue.

I floated on the surface of the hot water, with the man I loved between my legs, causing waves of pleasure to flow over me, as he held me just above the water with his strong grip. It was magical. I came with a lusty moan, after which he penetrated me, below the water, surrounded by its warmth and lifted by its strength. He thrust in me in a fluid motion, dictated by the water, relaxed and almost lazy, taking his time. I couldn't believe he hadn't done this before, it was blissful, and I moved along with him, feeling a high nearing, but very, very slowly. That was incredibly good, it just went on and on, a bit more every time. Until the climax came suddenly, shocking its way out. That brought on his climax, and we stayed connected, floating in the hot water in deep satisfaction.

We kissed, and swam together in the space the tub offered us. We stayed in the water until it cooled enough to make us a little shivery, and then we climbed out and dried each other carefully with the lush towels.

Paul was still admiring me very much, touching my curves, stroking my breasts in wonderment. I loved to see him naked too, he was so well-built, with hair in exactly the right places, and a lovely light skin that felt incredibly smooth, especially after the bath. His hands were perfect, and thinking of what they could do, the beauty they could make, the precision work as well as the heavy forging, my skin shivered as they touched it.

Still touching and still kissing, we both remembered Lukas at more or less the same time. We had spent a lovely time together, but now we needed to check on him, he was very unwell after all. So I took a bathrobe Paul offered me, and together we went upstairs, still touching, still aware of the other.

I opened the door in silence, and we went in quietly, tiptoeing through the house until we were standing by the bed, where our dear friend and lover was still sleeping peacefully. He looked so much like a boy with those curls springing around his cute face, one ringlet in his left eye. When I stroked it upward, the eye opened, and he smiled sleepily at me.

'You look happy,' he said, 'that's good.' Then he spotted Paul: 'You look happy too. You finally accepted your love! He was awake now: 'Now I'm happy too. When can I go outside? Tomorrow?' I felt his pulse and his temperature, and both seemed normal.

I asked: 'May I touch your horn?' He nodded. Sitting down I stroked his curls to the side, and carefully touched the horn at its undamaged base. He shivered with the sensation, but clearly in a good way, not in pain. I felt the inside, and it was fine so far. The flow was restored, the squares had filled up the contact point and had settled, almost like the original roof-tile structure. The colour of the flow was still bright red.

'You heal really fast,' I said. Lukas wanted to explain, I could see that, but he stopped himself. He nodded. 'Now I want to sleep again,' he said, and he promptly did. I kissed Paul goodnight, and walked him to the door. He looked at me with intense love, and told me: 'See you tomorrow.' And I replied: 'I'm counting on it.'

Then I closed the door behind him and went to my bedroom where I shed the robe and crawled in next to Lukas, warming myself against his sleepy body. He wasn't sleeping at all, as I suspected, he just wanted to give us space to say goodnight with some privacy.

He turned to face me, his face a bit concerned, and asked: 'I don't know your customs, can we still sleep together and make love now you've found each other?' I stroked his curls and face, kissed him and said: 'Yes we can my dear. Paul had to accept the two of us before he could make love to me. Apparently he has, though he might still get jealous. But I might too when you go outside and find other lovers.

' Lukas kissed me and said: 'You are a strange, fierce people.' I thought about that and replied: 'So we are, and you'd better remember that before you make love to someone's wife or daughter. We cannot help you out of all trouble you might get in to.' He thoughtfully said: 'I will be really careful. For now I'm very happy to be with you, if I can have a run or a swim outside, and explore the city together, and see your work place and go with Paul to install boilers.' That sounded encouraging, and I really wanted to believe everything would be all right.

Then I couldn't help touching the base of his poor horns again, which he enjoyed quietly and silently for a few minutes, after which he politely asked if he might make love to me. Which he might, and this time I took care again that he didn't overstress his head and his damaged horns, but I also managed to thoroughly enjoy his energetic efforts.

Spent, we fell asleep immediately after, and I dreamed of taking Lukas to work, of visiting the parks and the lakes with him, and of browsing the market where I had found the piece of art that had delivered him to me.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The next morning, I was the first to awake, and I quickly checked if Lukas was all right. He was still sleeping, reminding me of an innocent boy in his totally relaxed state and without the horns. I watched him sleep for a while, saw him breathe quietly and deeply, twitching a little in his sleep. Feeling drawn to touch him, I first restrained myself, not wanting to disturb his sleep, but then I remembered his habit of waking me up with a surprise and I decided to turn the tables on him for once.

Slowly and very carefully I moved to straddle him, not putting any weight on him yet, and when I had managed this, I again very carefully parted his curls to find the stumps of his horns, then very softly caressed their base, where they were attached to his head. This was certain to turn him on, though it might wake him up as well.

But I had been subtle enough, for he stirred a little and made some approving sounds, eyes still closed and face still slack in sleep. I could clearly feel his excitement against the inside of my legs, and using one hand to keep caressing both stumps on the sides nearest to each other, I used the free hand to guide myself on his impressive erection.

Now I did sit down on him, but not with my full weight, and I gently rode him, hands on his horn bases again. It was fun to watch him waking up slowly, first witnessing an expression of bliss appearing on his sleeping face, then consciousness coming over it, until he woke up completely with a very big grin and embraced me passionately.

He breathed: Got me, beloved!' and kissed me deeply. Of course he couldn't help moving along, making my feeling of riding him stronger. It was great fun, having surprised him as he usually tried to surprise me, and I was very happy to find him as energetic as ever.

After our frolicking we rested a little, I always enjoyed the feel and the smell of him after making love, but he was clearly restless, I suppose he felt well enough to go out but was afraid Paul and I would make trouble for him because of his blood loss and the danger of infection.

I asked him if I could see and feel the horns, and he bent his head over to me and laid it on my chest, fondling my breasts a little, suckling my nipples, expecting me to concentrate despite it, I guess.

Of course I had no problem checking them on sight, I could see no difference with yesterday, the horn couldn't show much anyway, but the base was cool to the touch and not swollen. Very sensitive though, even examining them aroused him and he wanted me to kiss him, which I did with great pleasure.

But then I wanted to 'feel' them from the inside, and that was impossible to do with him touching me in all kinds of stimulating places, so I asked him to lie still for a few moments. He managed that, and I could feel no difference with yesterday, all was quiet and relatively normal.

Coming back to the real world I found him already thinking of love again, but when I said: 'Don't you want to go outside?' he was distracted from that instantly: 'Can I?'

I replied: 'Lukas, you're an adult, I can't forbid you anything. Can you stand up?' He hopped out of bed and showed me he was in great shape. 'How do you do that? You couldn't even stand on your legs yesterday,' I asked.

He ran to me, jumped on the bed and wrapped me in his arms. Then he said: 'It's the love, it feeds me.' And that was all he could explain. I just had to accept that. I had a day off, but still we got up early, Lukas couldn't stay still, and besides, Paul deserved to know he was out of danger more than anyone. So we dressed quickly and went downstairs, but in the hall we could clearly hear the furnace and the ringing of a hammer, so we went down two more floors to the workshop.

Paul was there, hard at work already, in deep concentration. We didn't dare disturb him, so we just watched him work until he looked up from his project and saw us. Lukas rushed him and wrapped him in a bear hug, whispering in his ear.

Paul was clearly very happy to see him so lively, and returned the hug with enthusiasm, saying: 'Who could have done less for you, dear Lukas? I'm just glad to see you looking so well. Melissa has taken really good care of you.'

With the mentioning of my name, Paul looked at me, and the intense love in his expression just stopped my heart. I stood frozen to the ground with my body's reaction to that look, not passion, but something much, much more.

Neither of us could move for a few seconds, and when we finally got our mobility back we merely approached the other, took each other's hands, then embraced and stood together, cheeks touching. I felt the pure force of his love, how had he ever kept that shut away so tightly for such a time?

After some time he released me a little, looked at me and kissed me lightly on the mouth. He said: 'I'm happy to see you. And I'm very happy to see Lukas so well. How does he do it? It must be magic.'

Lukas was not disturbed or embarrassed in the least to observe all this, he seemed to thrive on love around him. I hoped he had started to understand the subtlety of Paul's love by now, Paul didn't show his love all that much physically, but it was clearly there, almost palpably so.

Having confirmed our intimacy, Paul showed us what he had been working on already. Another silver cap, should Lukas want both his horns so adorned. And a pair of his high boots, adapted for Lukas to wear.

'You will probably want to wear lighter shoes, not being used to wearing them and wanting to run in them, but this is the quickest I could do, in case you were well enough to go out today.' I wondered if Lukas would recognise the things Paul did for him as his way of expressing love.

They did at least make an impact on Lukas, who had no problems showing his feelings openly and shed quite a few tears seeing what Paul had done for him. He couldn't speak, but he could thank him in a different way, and he bowed his curled head to Paul's chest, who accepted the gesture by caressing the younger man lovingly.

They both needed to come to terms with the memory of yesterday's shocking events, and Lukas did owe Paul a big apology for manipulating Paul as he had done. After sorting that out, Lukas confirmed that he'd love to have both his horn stumps capped in the same way, so Paul glued the new one in place straight away, roughing up his curls over them afterwards. Then he showed Lukas how to strap on the boots, and with some adjusting the prototype functioned quite well.

'I'll make a better, lighter pair as soon as we know what needs improving in these,' he promised, and with that, he offered me his arm and we opened the door and took Lukas outside for his first time.

It was a glorious day, I don't think I had ever seen either of my friends so happy. Lukas had to adjust to the shoes first, they were high, heavy boots and stiff over his joints, but the fresh summer wind and the sun were enough to make him deliriously happy.

Paul, still holding my hand and laughing, proposed to do a tour of his territory, the quarter of the city that he guarded. I wondered if Lukas would make it that far, with the heavy, clumsy boots on his feet, but we could always turn around.

Walking through a few lanes first, with ancient linden trees on either side, heavy with buds nearly opening, already smelling heavenly with a few early blooms, we soon entered a little park within the city. It was still very quiet, so early in the day, and it was clear from the many flowering plants and trees that this was well kept.

Paul, as a guardian, told us he preferred wilder, more natural parks, but to me any green was welcome, especially this time of the year. We had nearly crossed the little park to the other exit, when Paul halted our progress by going to a little group of trees and examining them.

'What is the matter, Paul?' I asked him, for he looked concerned. Lukas answered for him: 'They don't look so good, do they?' And he was right, the trees were ailing, having lost a lot of green leaves, new growth appearing where it shouldn't.

Paul said: 'These are dying, and they shouldn't be. The faeries of this place should be taking care of them, but I cannot see any faerie here. Usually they greet me when I visit.' This was way too weird for me, and I guess Paul understood that, for he asked me to 'feel' the trees from the inside.

I did what he asked, laying a hand on the bark of the nearest one, and following the structure inside. The outer layer was much like Lukas' horn, only not so much flattened as squared parts, with thickened walls and layered alternately. Inside, there was flow, not red of course, but green, with fewer shapes. The green was not healthy, and the shapes seemed wrung somehow. I would have to touch a healthy tree to feel the difference.

I could feel a little buzz and followed it to its source. There was indeed an absence in the tree, a vacuity, something missing. Not understanding, I went back to the now, and told Paul what I had seen. He nodded, as if this was what he expected, and Lukas seemed to understand too.

'I'll have to look into that, but it can wait until we get home. You two can join me in my search.' We strolled on, but Paul was clearly a little distracted, though he did hold on to my hand almost possessively, which was not focussed on Lukas, but rather on the great unknown.

When Lukas admitted to being tired, we went home, but not before we had visited a shop and Paul and Lukas had bought a pair of low elegant men's shoes, in quite a small size. 'You'll probably want them as small as is still credible, don't you Lukas?' he asked, 'small and light will be the most comfortable I think.'

Lukas nodded, and when we arrived at the house the guys went into the workshop straight away, discussing the best way to make the shoes fit to his hoofs and look filled-up: should they make artificial feet to attach to his legs, then just put the shoes on like on normal feet, or should they make the shoes fitting to a hoof. I stayed for a while, watching the process, but after some time I got bored and left to read another book on magic, hoping to find out about faeries without being made fun of.

I was still not sure they were not having me on. I quickly managed to immerse myself in the book, my concentration unbroken until I heard footsteps on the stairs. Soon, Paul came in and behind him, Lukas, wearing the shoes like a 'normal' man. He looked totally comfortable in them, they suited him much better than the high boots Paul liked to wear, he moved completely naturally. The rather small size did indeed look natural as well, a slim man like him could very well have small feet. Lukas was clearly delighted with his newly found freedom, and he pleaded me to take him to work with me the next morning. I saw no reason at all not to take him along, it would be fun to show him around on the site and I told him so. 'Can I go out on my own for an hour or so?' he asked. 'Lukas, you're an adult, you can do what you want,' I said, 'here, take my key.' I handed him the key, and Paul and I watched him go out on his own for the first time.

Then I sat down again, feeling a bit lost. Paul looked at the volume I had been reading, and said: 'I see you've been reading up on faeries. Any questions?' I had one important one: 'What do you think has happened?'

Clearly worried, he answered: 'I don't know, I want to contact several of my allies to ask what they know. I'm considering visiting one in my own quarter tomorrow, Sir Nomes, who owns a manor house and a big park on the edge of town. He has a lot of faeries living in his park.'

'What are faeries?' I asked him. He smiled, admitting: 'If you don't know them yet, that is a question that requires quite an answer. Will you sit with me and cuddle a little whilst I tell you?' Now why didn't I think of that?

'Yes, please!' I replied. So we sat together on my bed, he held me against him, and I sneaked a hand under his shirt, caressing his chest. One in a while we'd exchange a kiss, but very languidly.

My eager touch was clearly distracting Paul a lot, but he managed to keep his thoughts together: 'Faeries are intelligent beings that have lived in this land since before humans came here. They are a lot more varied than humans, some are human-sized and look a lot like us, some are smaller, some are less corporeal than we are, they live in close harmony with trees, or a body of water.

The largest faeries are the smartest, elves are as intelligent or more so than humans, but they are much less aggressive and they have very few children, so where people have settled, elves usually either leave, or move to an alternate dimension of the same place. Though they are less aggressive than us, they can be really nasty to trespassers.

The smallest and least intelligent faeries are the ones who stay close to and in harmony with one or more trees, taking good care of them. We also call them dryads. I'm afraid the trees in the park we visited this morning are dying because something has happened to their dryads.

I want to do a search tonight, to try and find a sign of them, and I hoped you might want to help me, it will be interesting to watch me do it, but searching is also a lot safer with someone present.'

That didn't sound very good, so I asked: 'If it is so dangerous, why do you do it?' He looked at me as if that had never occurred to him, and said: 'It just comes with the job. My parents practised magic, so you might say I grew up with it. Being a guardian counts as a hazardous profession, but once the talent surfaces it's about the only career choice one has.'

I could imagine that, and when another thought struck me I observed: 'So you must have wanted to be an inventor and artist very much, to take up double duties.' Deprecatingly he replied: 'So much so that I never found the time to have a girlfriend, setting me sadly behind in matters of love?'

I kissed him once more, not so languidly this time, and retorted: 'This is me you're talking to, remember? I spent my teenage years learning a man's profession, I never had time for love either. And what is wrong about taking your time anyway?'

We continued our cuddling quite naturally, not talking about magic anymore, or anything else for that matter. Being together was enough, we needed nothing else for quite some time. Then there was a tentative knock on the door, and we heard the key in the lock and Lukas came rushing in. Of course he expected us to be intimate, so he seemed quite surprised, I suppose, to find us both still dressed.

Lukas was a bit hesitant to join us, I suppose our different customs around love made him insecure and shy around Paul and me. But Paul did not seem to mind Lukas' coming in at all, he looked mostly curious, eager to hear what Lukas had been up to I guessed. Encouraged by Paul's interest Lukas sat next to me, leaning into my embrace, resting his head on my shoulder, smelling of musk and fresh air. He seemed a bit out of breath and nearly ecstatic now his hesitancy was gone. Paul was the first to speak: 'And, did it work?'

Lukas turned his head a little to look at him, replying excitedly: 'It worked beautifully, it felt as if they weren't even there, and no-one I passed gave me a second look.' Now I got curious: 'Did what work?' I asked.

Lukas only managed a big grin, so Paul answered for him: 'Show her, Lukas.' And as Lukas bent his leg in one of those impossible angles he showed me his shoe from the underside. Instead of a heel, the shoe had a hoof! Paul explained: 'It's better for him to walk on the hoof itself, so we clamped the shoe around it, using the hoof as its heel. Lukas has just been for a run to test the construction, and apparently it functioned well, for he seems quite out of breath.'

Now, Lukas could talk again, and he said: 'I have little stamina left, but it'll build up fast once I go for a run each morning.' The prospect of that clearly excited him, he was so happy.

Lukas was still looking at Paul, suddenly hesitant again about something, until Paul said encouragingly: 'What is the problem, Lukas, why don't you just tell us?' 'I'm afraid you'll be mad at me if I tell you, but it's really starting to hurt me not to share it,' Lukas said, very shyly. This to Paul, not to me.

Paul didn't say anything in reply, he just held out his arms to Lukas, who rolled from the bed, walked around to the side where Paul was sitting, and kneeling beside the bed he nestled his head against Paul's chest, clamping himself to the larger man with his slender arms.

I couldn't see any sign of discomfort in Paul at this show of affection, he simply held Lukas close and said nothing, as he usually did to invite the other person to speak their heart. But silence didn't help Lukas, I saw a large tear rolling over his cute face, and my heart went out to him.

When Lukas didn't speak up, Paul cupped his face in both hands and looked him straight in the eye, and said: 'You can tell me Lukas, I won't be mad, I promise.'

Still kneeling by the bed, my goat-man said something rapidly in Greek, then waited for the axe to fall. Though it had been a few weeks since he'd last spoken Greek, I clearly heard the meaning in my mind: 'I love you and I want to be close to you, but men don't cuddle here.'

Paul lifted him from his knees and set him on his own lap easily, wrapping him in his arms again, curly head against curly head. 'I do love you, Lukas, I am just used to showing my love in a different way. I'm sorry if that hurt you, I'll try to be more hands-on from now on, but please don't expect a miracle.'

And when, slowly, Lukas looked up at him, Paul kissed him on his lips, and as Lukas started to return the kiss Paul leaned back against me, and Lukas was sitting on top of him, my one lover bending over the other to share a loving kiss. And did I feel jealousy then?

Not for the one, for I had always known Lukas would have other lovers, and that to be jealous would be to get hurt. But my feelings for Paul were different, and at that moment I realized I wanted him to myself.

The next, I reminded myself I expected Paul to accept Lukas in my life too. And the bite of jealousy lost its power, and I enjoyed watching two handsome men that I loved share even more love. Paul was not up to more than that kiss and a lot of cuddling, and Lukas didn't ask for more, had never asked for more.

So Paul and I held Lukas between us, and showed him all the love we both felt for him, which made him glow. He was so cute and innocent, that neither of us could resist him.

We had a quick lunch at my place, and Paul asked both of us to help him with the search. But Lukas pleaded to be excused, the outside pulled him and he wanted to explore. Paul asked him to keep an eye out for sick trees instead, which Lukas found an interesting challenge.

He also offered to cook for us tonight, enjoying the idea of going shopping for groceries. He still had the key, so I handed over my money as well, and he was off, skipping down the stairs on his new, well actually, on his hoofs.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Paul and I still sat at the table, and we both looked towards the door where Lukas had just left. He shook his head, got up and took the one or two steps towards me, then sat down on my knees, a leg on either side, embracing me so tightly I could hardly breathe.

Managing to keep my mouth shut for once, I felt very proud of myself. If he felt the need to speak, he'd speak. I relished the occasion, so close to him, surrounded by his warmth, his scent, his breath in my neck.

'Do you think he expects me to make love with him?' a voice breathed close to my ear. I replied: 'I think he just needs you to express the love you feel for him physically, no more, no less. He doesn't recognize the love in your care for him, in the art you make for him, in the little things that make you who you are. He loves you very much and wanted to express that in the only way he knew, but he didn't dare to. That hurt him.

You welcomed his love, even managed to return it in a way he recognised, and all was well. He doesn't expect you to give him more physical love than you feel.'

I think he understood, but I added: 'You express your love very subtly. I tried to explain that to him, but still he didn't see it, he just wants to be touched. Do you mind?' He looked up, kissed me and said: 'Actually no, I'm starting to get the hang of it. Do you?'

I decided to be honest with him and confessed: 'For a moment, I did, I didn't want to share you. But then I realized I expected you to share me, and I let it go. It is very difficult not to love Lukas.'

He stood up and offered me his hand: 'Shall we do the search first, then see how physical we can get afterwards?' I took his hand and stood up as well, and told him: 'Gladly.' To perform a search we needed to go to his apartment, under the shields. I followed him down the stairs, and down his lovely stairs.

We went into the kitchen, where he showed me how to prepare a scrying bowl. He took an unadorned, highly polished red copper bowl out of a cupboard, filling it with purified water, adding certain herbs and salt, waiting until the water settled.

Then we washed our hands carefully, and he explained what my role would be: to stay in physical contact with him, as his anchor to our world. 'Please do not let go of my hand, whatever happens. And do not touch the water, that is really dangerous,' he said, 'I do not expect trouble in this search, and there are immense shields on this place, but searching always makes the person doing it vulnerable.'

There were several things I wanted to know: 'Can I watch the water?' and 'What will you be looking for?' He answered shortly, for the water was nearly ready: 'Yes, you can watch, as long as you don't touch the water, and keep in mind, you can see awful things. Don't react, we'll talk about them later, just hold on to me until I'm done.

I'll be looking for the faeries that should be taking care of those trees, they've disappeared and faeries just don't leave their trees unattended. Something must have happened to them, something bad.'

Now the water in the bowl was perfect, so we sat down very close to each other, and he took my hand firmly into his own. Then he spoke a word of command over the bowl, and a scene started to become visible in the water.

I saw the trees, deserted, left to pine away without their caretakers. Then the view changed from the friendly park to a nasty, filthy place, with broken down houses and dead trees. The air was choked with charcoal fumes, a layer of soot covered heaps and heaps of trash, the refuse of a society addicted to modern technology.

The only building in any state of repair in this image was an ugly brick building, covered in soot, with a chimney belching black smoke that didn't even reach the cleaner part of the sky before it dispersed, particles falling out above the desolate place from hell. Studying the image, I saw movement in the heaps of rubble, small movements in a dead landscape.

The image zoomed in, I guess that was Paul's doing. I looked at him, but his face was concentrated and bland, there was no feeling of any kind visible on it.

I felt a bit lonely and held on to his warm hand with all my will, afraid to lose him. Then I turned back to the image, and saw a big heap of trash, buckets and old wheels, cogs and wires and rags, everything thrown out in a big heap, with a cement of mud and, I shuddered, probably horse dung or even human waste.

The movement was clearer now, human shapes, no, children, dressed in rags, filthy and skinny, fishing objects from between the rubble, putting them in slings, slung about their bodies.

Zooming in still further we came into a kind of alley in the rubble, knee deep in waste, a dead end. An old garbage bin was lying on its side, rusty and covered in soot over the rust. Inside the can, objects had been arranged in a pleasing way, as if they were precious ornaments.

But the can was too small for a child to have done this. And that was when I saw the faerie. It was human-like, but much smaller, and it looked just as I imagined a faerie, an elegant face with a tiny nose, big eyes and a pointy chin and ears, an elegant slim body and well-made elegant clothes. But this faerie was incredibly filthy, face covered in soot, hair sticking out from its head, clothes covered in muck and soot.

It didn't have the springiness I'd expect from a faerie either, no liveliness, no singing, no nonsense. This tiny creature had no facial expression at all, and it was hard at work, gathering objects like the children, but stacking them neatly everywhere in its little grubby home. It was heart-rending.

The image moved to another cannister lying about, and it was also inhabited by a hard-working, joyless faerie. This one was a girl, and the objects were girls' things, but all covered in soot, broken, worthless.

What was going on here? I think Paul had seen enough, for the image zoomed out slowly until we could see the river nearby, and a distinctive church on the other side of it. He had probably recognized the place, for the image winked out, and I felt the hand in my hand come to life.

A tired voice broke the spell with a word, and as I looked at Paul, I was shocked to see his face. It was grey, and exhausted. His face most certainly had an expression now, and it was one of intense grief.

Again, I managed to stay silent, and I just put an arm around him, trying to offer what little comfort I could give. I stroked his hair, and felt him nearly fall over with weariness. He was not up to speaking yet, so I said: 'Let me help you to the sofa where you can lie down for moment, I'll make you a cup of tea.'

And I helped him up, and supported him towards the sofa, guiding him into it, where he promptly collapsed. Then I speeded to the kitchen, filling the china pot from the boiler, and checking his stock of teas.

One smelled particularly reviving, and I used that, taking the pot and a cup with me to the sofa. Whilst it steeped, I sat next to him, holding him and stroking him. I couldn't say whether it was weariness or grief that had taken so much out of him, or maybe both.

He leaned against me until I deemed the tea ready, and I handed him a cup, unstrained. He smelled it, looked at me in approval, and sipped it hot as it was. This seemed to revive him, for he slowly straightened himself, still leaning on me but no longer with all his weight, and he managed to speak: 'Good choice in tea, how did you know?'

'I didn't, just picked the most vitalising one,' I said. He downed the tea in one big gulp, how he didn't burn himself I'll never know, and I took the empty cup and put it back on the table. Then I held him against me, and ran my hands through his hair very gently.

He was nearly asleep, his face on my breasts, and I must admit I felt more than a little horny to have him this close again. I put my hand under his shirt again, stroking his muscular stomach this time, slowly moving down his pants. He didn't react in shock, so I felt free to continue downwards, stroking his thighs softly.

He was a little ticklish, but not badly so. Still, I moved my hand away from the part he reacted to and stroked towards his crotch, feeling the soft skin of his testicles between my fingers, taking them in my hand really carefully.

This felt so good to me, that I kept on stroking them for quite some time. Since I had not gotten much of a reaction so far, I started to feel a bit guilty, what if he was too tired to protest? So I whispered in his ear: 'Do you mind?'

A husky voice answered: 'No, please go on.' And I did, now moving my hand towards his penis, soft skinned as well, but hardened by now, of course. First I stroked it, enjoying the feel of the skin, then I handled it, firmly but not roughly.

His body did react now, one of his hands moved towards my bodice, pulling the laces to release them, causing my breasts to fall out into his face. He was in the throes of lust now, sucking one of my lush breasts and fondling the other, moving his hips along with the rhythm of my hand in his pants.

Suddenly he came alive again, and he turned around and kissed me, on fire now and very intense. Then he lifted up my skirts, teased down my undies and buried his face in my pubic hair. Searching with his tongue, he found the place that stimulated me the most, and he made me shudder with pleasure, more and more, until I came to a high with groan.

Then he jumped me with incredible energy, thrusting himself in me with much less control than the first time. He was really letting go of himself, which pleased me. With such abandonment, it wouldn't take long for him to climax, so I helped myself along with a few fingers, and came just ahead of him.

This made his last intense thrusts extra good, and we laid on the sofa together, him out of breath, but less depressed than before. After a few minutes, we looked at each other, smiled, kissed, then rearranged our clothes and shared a cup of stimulating tea, sitting on the couch as one large person with two heads and twice the usual number of arms and legs.

When the tea was finished, he started to speak: 'They moved out, they just left their trees and moved out. I can't understand, why would a dryad want to live in a trash-can? With stuff, hoarding stuff. They don't even care about possessions.'

I observed: 'Well, they did seem to care now. About the stuff, I mean, not about anything else.' Paul was clearly puzzled, deep in his thoughts. I asked him: 'Are you tired from the search?' My voice broke his train of thoughts, he looked at me and said: 'Searching is always hard, and faeries are hard to find, especially the ones that live in communion with something. Even when they are totally healthy, which these weren't, but what was ailing them?'

Here, I got a thought: 'You say they live in communion?' 'Yes, dryads are very close to their trees, they are supposed not to be able to live without them, yet those were living in a lifeless trash-can,' Paul replied, 'and totally alone, but they did not seem to be suffering from active loneliness, they seemed more without feelings at all.'

I completed my thought: 'Maybe they used the stuff to fill up the hole inside them. Where the tree should be. That is what human hoarders are supposed to do, filling up an emptiness inside them with stuff.'

Still looking very weary, Paul snuggled up to me and laid his head on my lap. I couldn't resist his curly hair, it had to be touched. He enjoyed the attention, closing his eyes, nearly falling asleep, saying: 'Can't think anymore, too tired. I'll step by Sir Nomes' manor tomorrow, see if his faeries have the same problem.'

And then he dropped off, face relaxing in sleep. I realized I had never seen him asleep before, he looked much younger than usual. But now I remembered he had told me we were of the same age, so I guess he really was this young, his self-confidence and competence just made him seem older than his years.

I felt a strong surge of love for this serious, rather reserved man, who loved so deeply but found it hard to show that love. Lukas and I were going to have to stimulate him to show it, time and time again, and to give him his fair share in return. He deserved it. I sat with Paul sleeping in my lap for another quarter of an hour, when I heard a key turn in the lock, and Lukas came in. He came down the stairs and brought a bag of groceries to the kitchen, without noticing me or Paul. He was whistling to himself, clearly in an excellent mood.

When he came out again straight afterwards, he was no longer whistling, but looking for something, rather worriedly.

Spotting us on the sofa, he ran towards us and kneeled before Paul's still form, pleading: 'He's not hurt, is he?' I replied calmly: 'No, just sleeping. He saw some disturbing things, and it took a lot out of him.'

Relieved, Lukas said: 'I saw the scrying bowl on the kitchen table, Paul would never leave a mess if something hadn't happened. You know, searching really is quite dangerous, I suppose he usually does it alone. Very risky.'

He now looked at Paul as I had done a little earlier, observing: 'He looks much younger asleep, don't you think?' I smiled at him, and said: 'I think this is his real age, he mentioned to me once that we were about the same age. He looks much older when he's awake, I think because he always seems to know what to do.'

Lukas now threw a cheeky look at me again and said: 'You mean he's bossy.' I couldn't help laughing, and said: 'That too.'

Though it was a tight fit, Lukas managed to sit on my other side, and I was snug between two handsome men. 'You told me he loved me, but I didn't see it,' he said. I observed: 'He was very subtle showing it, spending time with you, teaching you, making your favourite dinner, helping you saw off your horns against his better judgement.'

At that last remark, Lukas looked really ashamed, adding: 'Not taking my hide off for nudging him. You know, that is just as unethical where I come from, I really wasn't thinking clearly anymore.' 'And you nearly died for it,' I told him, glad he hadn't.

'You have both been so good to me, and yet it still wasn't enough for me, I had to have his love as well,' Lukas realized. I touched his beloved face, saying: 'You already had his love, you just didn't see it. Will you recognise it now? I'm sure he will try to show you more clearly, but it is hard for him. Did you have a good time outside?'

I changed the subject, I wasn't Lukas' mother and didn't want to moralise. I got an enthusiastic hug in reply, and: 'It was so good, I just walked and ran until I didn't know where I was anymore, then I searched for the boundary and came back.

'The boundary?' I queried. 'Yes, the boundary, where Paul's quarter ends,' said Lukas, 'you should be able to see that too. If you know how to find it, you'll never get lost.' I never tried, so I said: 'I'll try tomorrow, when I go to the building site. Still want to come?' He nodded vigorously.

Now Paul started to stir a little, still sleeping. I stroked his hair again, and his stubbled cheek, and he opened his eyes for a moment, turning his face towards me, then clasped his arms around me firmly, sighed and went back to sleep.

Lukas looked at him tenderly, we both hadn't realized he was still so young, and my mind took me back to the instances where we had left him in control, when maybe we should have taken our own responsibility. That would not happen to me again, nor to Lukas, I could see that. I could see something else in him as well, and I suggested: 'We can make out a little without disturbing him, can't we?'

Which of course was on his mind, and he soon had his hands on my breasts, releasing them from their confinement, licking my nipples. I fondled his curls as he bent over me, they were darker than Paul's, and rougher, keeping their shape though his hair was quite long now. Soon I encountered his horns but I avoided them, knowing that stroking the stumps would turn Lukas on instantly, inevitably disturbing Paul in his sleep.

Looking up from my breasts, he kissed me, and that kiss was charged with all the energy our fondling was generating. He had his hands still on my breasts, and I had mine under his shirt now, his skin incredibly soft and his musky scent as stimulating as ever after his exercise.

This was going all wrong, the two of us were not able to keep it small, our passion was bound to take over sooner or later. When the kiss was done, Lukas asked: 'How long do you think he will need to sleep?

I think I'd better start on our dinner, making out with you is way too exciting.' I agreed, and he went to the kitchen, looking back once regretfully, as if we weren't going to be sleeping together tonight and a lot of nights to come.

Soon I heard him going about his business in the kitchen, and some lovely odours were coming our way. Paul clearly smelled them in his sleep, for he got restless again, feeling me up with his hands, and encountering my breasts, still free from my bodice. He explored them eagerly, apparently still sleeping, which I found astonishing.

But soon, an eye opened, and another one, and he looked at his hands in surprise, then at me: 'I dreamt I was touching your breasts, but I suppose it wasn't really a dream. Did I do that? Can't remember dreaming that,' this at my corset still loosened up.

I smiled at him fondly and said: 'No, Lukas did that. He came home and we tried to make out without disturbing your sleep, but it didn't work out at all, so he went to the kitchen to make dinner.'

Now he said slightly worried: 'It didn't work out, you didn't quarrel or anything?' Thinking of what we had been doing, this made me laugh: 'No, we got a little too enthusiastic, and you needed your sleep.'

'Well, as long as they're there, I might as well enjoy them until dinner is ready,' he said cheekily, and just like that he gave me a push until I lay on the sofa with him, then took hold of my creamy white breasts with both his hands, sucking their nipples one at a time, feeling their soft weight in his hands, licking every inch of both, burying his face in them, indeed until Lukas called that dinner was ready.

Then he helped me to sit up, gently deposited each breast in its right place in the corset, and carefully re-laced it bottom to top. It was done perfectly, not too loose and not too tight, which didn't surprise me one bit. Throughout all this, I was kind of stunned by his forwardness, though I enjoyed it too. And not before he helped me up from the sofa to lead me to the kitchen table, did I notice that he looked his usual age again.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Lukas had really outdone himself, going all out on the potatoes and the cheese. Of course there were plenty of healthy things in his dinner, but it was mainly very rich. After running most of the day I guess he was hungry. Paul was too, he stuffed himself like he did that day on the flea-market, talking very little.

But Lukas hadn't forgotten his promise to look out for ailing trees, and dinner was the perfect moment to report his findings. He told us: 'From here to the north boundary the trees I saw were all fine, and returning along the boundary going west, then back here, there weren't many trees, but what I saw was in good health. The affected trees were south, maybe we should check that side tomorrow.

And your building site, Melissa, please remind me to check the trees on our way there ' Now, Paul showed some interest again, and said: 'I was planning to visit Sir Nomes' manor tomorrow, he has a large landscaped garden and he is an expert on faeries. And now you mention it, he lives to the south.'

Now Lukas took a good, long look at Paul, until he managed to catch his eye. Still keeping the contact, Lukas said: 'What is your problem, Paul? You've spotted something amiss, we're working on it, what more can you do?'

Finally, Paul spilled the beans: 'I failed them. I was supposed to watch out for them, and now it may be too late.'

Lukas shook his head and commented: 'That cannot be so, you are not responsible for everything that goes wrong in your quarter. That is too great a burden for any one person to bear. Did anyone ask you for help, which you refused?'

Very surprised by Lukas contradicting him, Paul shook his head. 'And have you risked your life today to find out what is happening?' Lukas went on. 'Melissa anchored me, so it wasn't that dangerous,' was Paul's feeble retort.

Lukas snorted at his reasoning, but continued: 'And did you find out what is happening?' Paul nodded: 'I did, and it was horrible.' 'And the search left you dead tired and depressed?' Lukas supplied. Another nod. 'So you did what you could today, didn't you?' I was amazed, for under this cross-examination, Paul lost some of his attitude.

He was clearly in doubt about the last question. 'What more can you do today Paul?' Lukas asked. 'I know where they are, the dryads, I could go and get them,' he said. Now, Lukas relented a bit, saying: 'But dear Paul, they went wherever they are now of their own free will. If you hunt them down and bring them back to their trees, what will stop them from leaving again? And can you force them to take care of the trees? You need to find out what happened to make them leave in the first place. And what is the best way to do that?

'Go to Sir Nomes' place and ask him,' Paul admitted. 'So there you are, nothing for it but to wait until tomorrow,' Lukas reasoned, 'so what will we do tonight?'

'Sleep?' Paul suggested. 'Wrong answer!' Lukas said triumphantly, 'tonight we're going to make some fun!'

Even I didn't see that one coming. But Lukas didn't mind explaining at all: 'This afternoon, I passed by a beautiful park, and in that beautiful park was a pavilion where one could sit and have a drink and a chat, and maybe a little dance.

And tonight I'm taking you there.' That sounded like a lot of fun, so I said: 'I'm in. I haven't been out for a very long time, and I think it's a great idea.' Lukas laughed and stood up, invited me in his arms, then spun both of us round and round. It felt wonderful, he was wonderful, very animated and very graceful.

Looking at Paul I thought he looked tired still, but the prospect of dancing tempted him as well. 'All right, I'll come too,' he said, 'if you'll dance with me too, Melissa.' 'Of course I will, dearest Paul, I'd love to,' I said, 'and I'll wear my nicest dress to make it worth your while.' We washed up quickly and all dressed in our best clothes.

My dress was a real head-turner, dark green to match my coppery hair, with shimmering stones sewn all over the skirts and a bodice to seduce a prince with. Of course I let my hair loose, keeping only the front part from my face with a green ribbon.

My men looked their best too, Paul in his usual nonchalant style of natural coloured linen trousers and shirt, only without the leather vest this time, both items made of the best quality fabrics, fitted to his body like a glove. He wore a more elegant version of his boots, his silver belt buckle was subtly adorned with flying dragons, and he had matching silver wrist-guards on his arms. He was stunningly beautiful, and he knew it.

Lukas of course couldn't wear fitted trousers, they'd give away his tail and his weirdly jointed legs instantly. But a bright blue shirt that Paul had given to him had been fitted to Paul as a young man, when he was a lot narrower still, and it fit Lukas admirably, the more flamboyant colour and pattern suited Lukas perfectly.

I thought he was about to set a new trend amongst the hip youngsters. His slim figure was incredibly elegant, and the tiny shoes underneath his flowing pants emphasised that impression. I was incredibly proud to be going out with two such fine looking men. We went down the stairs together, and were about to step out on to the street, when Paul asked us to follow him into his workshop for a moment.

Of course we went in, and he lighted a gas lamp, then pulled a drawer from his cabinet and carefully laid out the contents in the lamp light. They were stunning. He held a golden necklace before me, and I saw Lukas' chin drop.

Grinning, Paul asked: 'Too much for a pavilion?' Lukas nodded fervently and said: 'That is worth a fortune, you cannot risk wearing that to a public dance.' Curious now, I asked for a mirror and Lukas held one before me. I agreed with him, no way would I wear that to a public place.

The necklace was made of solid golden links, shaped like dragon's claws holding on to each other. In the middle was a large green stone, not in one solid colour, but darkening towards the middle, giving the impression of hidden depth.

Paul removed it, then replaced it by a red copper one with running horses, linked head to flowing tail, seeming to really move around my throat. The copper matched my dress and my hair, and the real value lay in the superb craftsmanship, not in the metal. Paul looked at me in that particular way that always made my hart skip a beat, rooting me to the ground.

I found my voice again after some time: 'I'll wear this one tonight, if you want me to.' He kissed me on my cheek once, almost afraid to touch me in my lovely dress.

But he wasn't done yet. Rummaging through the contents of the box, he came up with a chain in his hand, and handing the mirror to me and placing Lukas in front of it, he held the necklace before him.

The links of the chain were made of bronze, slowly increasing in size towards the middle, where the largest and biggest two were shaped like wings. Between the wings was an eye, shaped from a yellow stone in a bronze setting. The stone was patterned in a circle like a real eye. It had a disconcerting stare, and sat precisely in the middle of Lukas' chest. He loved it.

Paul asked him if he wanted to wear it tonight, and he did, very much so. Paul put the rest of the jewellery, including the priceless golden necklace, back into the drawer as if they were spare parts of no value, turned off the lamp, and we followed Lukas to the place he had discovered.

It was really impossible to see that he was not wearing normal shoes on normal feet, and he walked with a certain spring in his step that spoke his happiness louder than words could.

When we arrived in the park, we could already hear the sound of music, played rather fast. We soon reached the pavilion, where we found a table to ourselves and ordered drinks. From where we were sitting we could watch the dancing, and it seemed quite a heady business. I recognized the steps, but I was not sure I was up to the speed at which they had to be performed. Paul also professed he'd rather wait until there was a slower dance, to polish the rust off our dancing before we'd try for real.

Lukas sat out one dance with us, but he was soon checked out by several young ladies looking for a partner. 'Why don't you ask one of them to dance, Lukas, I'm sure you can match the speed,' Paul teased him. 'Which one should I choose?' he asked, unable to decide for himself.

Paul suggested: 'Ask the blonde first, she's petite and elegant, she will not step on your feet the whole time or lean on you heavily.' And so Lukas did, and soon we could see him dance with the petite blonde, matching the insane speed pace by pace, not missing a step. Paul observed: 'He is one hell of a dancer, I think he can lead you through one if you dare brave the fatigue of dancing at that speed.'

He was right, and I did want to try it, it had felt so good to whirl around Paul's kitchen. So when Lukas came back to our table, breathing slightly fast, to have a little rest, I told him I'd try a fast round with him.

He was delighted, and wanted to go out straight away, so we did, and as soon as we were on the floor he turned me lightning fast, and we hopped and turned together until I at least was dizzy and felt half-drunk. I asked him to let me have a breather, so he took me back to Paul and asked another girl, another blonde but a shade taller, to dance. Paul couldn't help himself anymore, and he very elegantly asked me to dance with him.

Now why did this give me a little thrill, when with Lukas I had just walked off and danced? I didn't know, and I didn't think about it, he led me to the dance-floor and turned me straight away, as Lukas had done, settling in the lightning speed of the dance as easily as Lukas had.

And why shouldn't he? Despite his older man attitude, he was probably as young as either of us, and in excellent shape from his physical labour. We whirled again, and hopped, and skipped, and he even led me through some new steps he saw a neighbouring couple perform. He was an athlete, and I felt like the queen of the ball, dancing with such an agile and handsome man.

Meanwhile, I was getting my share of admiring looks as well, and if Paul hadn't been such an accomplished dancer and such a handsome and self-assured man, I'm sure I would have had plenty of offers to dance from other men. As it was, I had no trouble at all dancing just with him, and the giddiness that the dance caused made me feel as if I was drunk.

I asked for a little pause, and Paul admitted he was getting slightly dizzy himself. We sat down at our table with new drinks, looking for Lukas, who was nowhere to be seen. I decided not to worry about him, he would only be in danger of discovery if he undressed, and there was not much opportunity to do that on a dance-floor.

After another round of dancing I thought Paul was starting to look slightly the worse for wear, and I had to go to work the next day, so I was ready to leave. And then I spotted Lukas, back on the dance-floor with a girl whose dress looked rather rumpled.

Lukas was the same impeccable figure as ever, still walking in a straight line, not even breathing hard. I decided to call him over to make arrangements for him to come home on his own, and when he looked at our table just before the music started, I gestured at him to come over for a while. He did straight away, trailed by a chagrined girl who wanted to dance more, and tried to convince him to ignore me. But that was not Lukas, he came over, ignoring the girl instead, and sat down with us.

'What is it?' he asked gaily, do you want to dance another round with me? I said: 'Actually, I was planning to go home, I have an early day tomorrow, and Paul is starting to look a little weary, he's had a rough day.'

Immediately understanding, he asked: 'Do you want me to come with you?' I shook my head, and said: 'Suit yourself, you can decide tomorrow morning if you want to come to work with me, if you're too tired you can come some other time. We can give you a key and you can come home whenever you like.

But be careful not to become too intimate with anyone, lest they discover your tail, or horns, or hoofs.' He smiled conspiratorially, and said: 'I've already found out how far I can go, just a quick one is the habit here, against a hedge or a tree. No undressing, no fondling, these girls want it straight and fast, between two rounds of dancing so to speak.'

I can't say I wasn't shocked to hear this, but I managed to keep a straight face and said: 'Oh, that's safe enough then.' He nodded, then said gaily: 'If you'll do one more round with me, I'll come home with the two of you, is that acceptable to you?'

Looking at Paul, who looked back questioningly, I asked him: 'Would it be all right with you if I dance one more round with Lukas, and to go home after that?'

He smiled and said: 'I'd like to dance another round with you myself, can you make it two?' I felt flattered, and told him: 'Sure, love to,' then went off with Lukas. He had lost none of his speed, despite having danced most rounds, and having been differently engaged between those rounds.

I could see this was something he really loved to do, and we spun and hopped again until we were dizzy and breathless. When we stopped, I could just see Paul coming from the dance-floor, blonde girl leaving his arms.

He claimed me for his last dance, and Lukas asked another girl. The music started again, and we were off, moving again at breakneck speed. It was exhilarating, and I wanted to go on and on, but when the music stopped again for a moment, we walked off together and soon ran into Lukas, who had been looking for us. Still breathless and a bit dizzy, we walked home, Paul with one of us on each arm.

He told me: 'That blonde girl asked me to dance, said she had seen me dance and wanted to have a round with me very badly. So I agreed, and she was a good dancer. Not as beautiful as you, but then, who is?' And at Lukas: 'That was a good idea, Lukas, I haven't had such a good time in, I think, years. I do need to worry less and go out more.

Did you enjoy yourself?' Lukas replied: 'I sure did, loved the dancing, and lots of pretty girls asking very few questions.' Feeling kind of fascinated, I asked: 'How many did you have?' He answered: 'Just the two, the other one only wanted to dance, and that was fine by me.'

Paul now looked at me concernedly, and I returned what I hoped was a helpless look. I didn't know what to do, I knew this would happen, but so soon, and so casually? Would I be able to accept it, still love Lukas the way I had? I just didn't know. I needed some time to think, to come to terms with it.

I had looked forward to continuing our making out in private, but now the thought of making love with Lukas felt totally different. I was very disappointed in myself to be so jealous, but I couldn't help feeling like that.

It was as if Paul sensed my need, for he put an arm around me and kissed me on my cheek. I felt supported straight away, and though I still didn't know what to do, I didn't feel so achingly lonely anymore.

Of course, Paul had already gone through this process before we had even made love, but that was different in a way, he knew Lukas and liked him. Yet another part of me retorted: that must have made it even more difficult, maybe still finds it hard, you don't know that. I just knew one thing, I could not hope to prevent this, so I really had to learn to live with it. I could no more cast Lukas out of my life and out of my heart than I could give up an arm or a leg.

Fighting tears, I was determined not to let Lukas see me cry. He would not understand, it would upset him without being able to do anything about it.

Unfortunately, very sensitive to my feelings, he had noticed by now that my mood had changed, and he walked next to me and asked me if I was feeling well. What could I do but fight tears and let Paul make an excuse for me?

He told Lukas: 'I think that last dance with me was a bit much for Melissa, remember, we had a really tough search this afternoon, she saw some sad things.' Incredibly, he seemed to understand exactly what I was feeling, including my unwillingness to let Lukas know about it. I couldn't speak, but I squeezed his hand to thank him, and in return, he kissed me again, chastely on the cheek.

Inside me, a really strong part of me now started to laugh at my own hurt feelings. It said: 'Do you realize now what you have put this deserving man through? Do you feel the pain he felt, knowing you slept with another, night after night, whilst he was longing for you in silence? Starting to feel his own kind of love for the man who caused him the pain. Are you really going to allow yourself to cry for Lukas in selfishness, when you knew from the very first that this would happen, knowing you are doing the same thing to another?

I knew that part of me was right, and I also knew Paul loved me and would love me exclusively, maybe not forever, but nearly forever. I would never have to be hurt by him choosing other partners. But I also loved Lukas, and though I knew I could probably live without him, he couldn't live without me.

He could never be totally himself with any other woman on this world. Could I demand from him that he stay away from other women? Did I want to? Was it rational for me to ask that sacrifice of him to suit my Victorian principles? To give up even more of his identity than he had already given up?

I was not going to solve this dilemma in a quarter of an hour, and I concluded I certainly would have to discuss it with Paul, and likely with Lukas as well. But at least my stronger self had shaken me out of my self-pity and thus taken away my impulse to cry.

Next to me, Paul immediately noticed the difference in my attitude. He looked at me quizzingly, and I said: 'My stronger self objected severely against my pitying myself, when I have been putting you through the same pain for at least a month. Worse, for I have you, and you have no-one else. I cannot begin to understand how lonely you must have felt, may still feel at night. I cannot promise you to stop loving Lukas, but I will promise you that things will change.'

This hit Paul like a hammer, and I instantly regretted speaking without thinking of his feelings first. His face instantly changed to that of the really young man on the sofa, showing all his hurt, his insecurity, his loneliness. He could not walk anymore, or talk anymore.

This could not be solved in a few minutes, this needed my undivided attention. Lukas of course didn't understand anything anymore, and I asked him to not question anything now, but to just go ahead to the house, and have patience with us for an hour. I would try to explain it to him tomorrow. He was worried, but seemed to understand, and he walked on alone.

I went to Paul, who had sat down right where he was standing, and who was trying to compose himself with every thread of will he possessed, failing miserably. I felt so guilty, as if I had shoved my hurt at him just to be rid of it myself.

I asked him to please get up and off the road, we could sit in a grassy spot just ahead. He did, mechanically. I sat next to him, wrapping my arms around him, which he accepted, he even relaxed a bit. I decided to try out his own method of getting people to speak their heart by being silent, even though I yearned to apologise to him a thousandfold.

It worked, for he started to speak haltingly: 'Now you understand part of it. You have felt the jealousy, the endless wondering why you alone aren't enough. But you are right, you have not felt all. I feel terribly lonely every night, knowing you're not, neither of you. You have no way of knowing how that hurts. Couldn't know, for I've never been able to tell you or show you how it hurt me to be left every night.

I've put a brave face on it, took leave laughing, hoping to see you back the next day. I need to know, Melissa, are you playing with me? Using me to fill the loneliness you knew you were going to feel when this started? I want you so much I might be able to live with being second best, but I need to know.'

I felt a complete traitor to Lukas, but I loved this man more than anything in the world, and he needed to know that. So I told him the absolute truth: 'Dear Paul, you are not second best to me, never have been, never will be. I will not ever love someone like I love you, and I know you feel the same about me. When you touch me, I feel a thrill. When you look at me like this, my heart skips a beat.'

It did, for he now looked at me in that intense way. I swallowed a big lump in my throat: 'I totally took you on face value, thought you didn't want or dare share a bed yet. I only realized just now how lonely you must have been.'

I felt awful, I didn't dare mention Lukas, but I thought of what Paul had done for him, never showing his pain. But my confession had lifted Paul's spirits, and though his look was still intense, it was also happier, and he didn't hesitate mentioning Lukas at all: 'I'm so happy to hear you say you love me. But it also makes me feel for Lukas, I know that he loves you as exclusively as he can. I don't want him to feel left out, or lonely.'

Convinced it was true, I replied: 'It would kill him. He needs love to live, and more than one person can give him.' Paul now had his usual composure back, but with an added glow.

He said: 'I love him too, I really do, and now I know I have a place in your life, I will be able to show him my love much more openly. I know he cannot live without you, I don't want him to pine away. Let's go find him.'

He got up and helped me up, but I still wanted something from him: 'Promise to tell me, if something I do hurts you.' He bowed his head against me as if he were humble, but since this meant his face ended up between my breasts I wondered how serious his gesture was. Inhaling deeply, then looking up at me he said: 'I promise I'll share my feelings with you in the future.'

And with that, he took my hand and we walked home. In front of his house he turned to me and asked: 'Will you sleep with me tonight?' I answered: 'I will.'


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

When we came in, Lukas was sitting on the stairs, waiting. He was clearly upset, he knew something was wrong when Paul had reacted so strongly, but he had no idea what. I felt for him, he was an alien in our culture, always trying to figure out how to act properly, how to keep the people he depended on happy.

Fortunately, Paul was now back to his stable self, and he kissed Lukas lovingly, hugged him, then offered him a hand and led him up the stairs. I followed. We ended up on Paul's sofa, with a cup of tea and an evening snack, mainly for Lukas. But he didn't eat, he knew something was afoot, and he wanted to understand.

He said: 'I did something wrong, didn't I? Was it those girls? They wanted to dance, and make love, and I didn't undress, or let them touch my hair.' I told him: 'It was my problem, Lukas, I knew you'd make love to other girls, but it made me jealous anyway and when I had managed to stop myself from feeling like that, I said something to Paul that made him really unhappy.'

Lukas replied: 'I know what jealousy is now, but I didn't love those girls, I just had sex with them. And what did that have to do with Paul?' This was not going well.

Now Paul tried to make it easier: 'Melissa got jealous against her will, it happened to her unexpectedly. She didn't think she'd mind if you had sex casually, but she did, and she felt lonely. So she came to me for comfort.

Then she remembered she loved two people as well, you and me. And she realized I might feel lonely too, and I didn't have someone to comfort me. She told me she realized she might have hurt me without meaning to. That was very true, I've been very lonely at night, not knowing whether she really loved me or not, knowing you two were together.'

Lukas asked: 'But why didn't you come to us then?' Paul replied: 'In our culture, people have only one lover. I wouldn't share.'

Lukas was stunned: 'You wanted her to yourself? You didn't want me? I thought you loved me', and Paul told him: 'Of course I love you, I never said our way was the best way, I really want to learn how to share love, and I want you to teach me. Not being able to share was very painful. But I'm afraid that seeing the two of you make love would also be very painful.'

Then Paul got his first lesson in sharing, for Lukas observed: 'I like seeing people make love, but I'd rather join them.' Then he looked at me and asked: 'What do you want, Melissa?'

So far, I hadn't contributed much, but I knew exactly what I wanted: 'I want us all to be happy. I want to spend the nights with Paul, I love him and I want to hold him when he sleeps, but I want to be with you as well, you are so sweet and I want to give you the love you need.'

I looked at Paul pleadingly: 'Can we at least try? We'll make love separately, but we can try sleeping together, can't we?' Paul looked at both of us, tired but quite happy, then said jokingly: 'If I can go in the middle tonight.'

Thinking of my morning surprises, I eyed Lukas severely, at which he defended himself: 'I can control myself, honestly!' It was now really late already, and I needed to be at work the next morning, so I asked Paul if he would lead us to his bed, which he did. We all undressed, and crawled into his large bed together, which felt totally right.

I snuggled up to Paul, blissfully happy to have him in my arms for a whole night. Too bad I fell asleep instantly, I would have liked to enjoy the feeling a little longer, but that would have to wait for another time.

The next morning, I awoke with a hand shaking me gently and a whispering voice in my ear: 'Melissa, it's time to wake. I'll be downstairs making coffee, you can stay in bed for another half hour, I'll call you. Enjoy.' It was Lukas.

He was always awake before dawn, even after such a night, and he had even thought of waking me a bit early so I could enjoy lying in bed with Paul for half an hour. How could I not love him?

I turned towards the middle of the bed, and snuggled against the still, warm shape lying there. It made a sleepy sound and turned towards me, feeling a bit, then taking me in its arms.

As it was already light outside, high summer was approaching fast, I could see Paul at his most disarming, still asleep, free of restraint and worry. Would I touch him and risk waking him, or would I let him sleep?

Lukas was coming with me, so Paul would wake up alone, which he probably wouldn't like. I decided to risk waking him, he'd have plenty of time to sleep it off, being his own boss. I started with his hair, running my hand through his curls, and then I kissed his face.

My hand explored his whole body next, his neck, his shoulders, his muscled arms and chest. I had to smell that chest, it looked so tempting, and it did indeed smell good, smoke and etching fluid now losing from his own scent. I stroked his buttocks, I couldn't remember touching those before, they were firm, muscular too.

Deciding not to excite him too much so shortly before I left him, I just wanted him to remember he had not been alone tonight, I went back to stroking his upper body, watching his face all the time. He was really fast asleep, my caresses didn't wake him at all. I gave up and snuggled close to him, still feeling his arms around me.

I must admit I had gotten kind of used to waking up with sex, for I missed it now, feeling very heated. But it was a pleasant sort of heat, and I expected to be able to do something about it somewhere in the day.

So I stayed there for another ten minutes or so, close to my sleeping partner, then carefully loosened myself from his hold and got out of bed. Now he did wake, and sleepily said: 'Up already?' I bent over to kiss him, and replied: 'Working day my love.'

My breasts hung loose in a very tempting way, and he did reach out to touch them, but very lazily. 'Too bad,' he muttered. 'I'll be back before you know it. Lukas is coming with me. See you at lunch?' I asked. He was asleep again already, and I kissed him once more, then put on his bathrobe, picked up my dress and my key, and left the bedroom. I left the necklace with the little horses on his night-stand, he'd certainly find it there, and I saw that Lukas had left his necklace there already.

Door closed behind me, I called out to Lukas: 'I'll be dressing in my own house, can't go to work in an evening dress!' And I went out the door and up the stairs. Once inside I checked the clock, and I decided I could take the time to have a nice hot shower before putting on a suit and doing my hair.

I worked my own hours after all, and there was not a lot to do today, except give Lukas a tour and check any new building materials for flaws. I hung the dress back neatly, then got a clean towel and went towards the little shower room.

To my surprise, Lukas was in the bedroom as well, putting away his flamboyant shirt. He was stark naked and as heated as I had been, I guess he missed our morning surprise as well. The sight of his erect penis gave me a distinct flash of heat, and I decided there and then I wanted my relief. So I walked towards him, dropped the robe and rubbed myself against him.

'Do you want to take a shower together?' I asked, kissing his face and his lips. He seemed surprised, but very willing, following me into the shower room. Once there, I turned on the taps, checked the temperature and stepped under the shower.

Lukas was not as forward as usual, but I ignored that and took one of his hands to pull him in. Now he took me in his arms and kissed me, wanting to speak but thinking the better of it. Good. I wanted him, right now, and very firmly.

It was as if he knew, for he did not hesitate anymore, but manoeuvred himself between my legs and penetrated me. Pushed against the wall with every thrust I gloried in the feeling, heat intensifying each time he touched me inside, his hips working frantically, his expression only slightly less feverish than his movement.

Soon I just felt my passion climbing higher and higher, and I came forcefully. He pulled himself out of me, and kneeled before me, much calmer now, and determined to take his time. 'Will you lie down for me?' he asked, and when I did lay down under the shower he lifted my legs over his shoulders and proceeded to lick my heated clitoris until I came again with shuddering force. I now got up and presented myself to him buttocks first, which he couldn't resist, entering me from behind, holding on to my hips and energetically thrusting until he also had a intense climax. I turned towards him and held him tightly, the water still warm. We stood together for some time, then turned off the shower, dried off and dressed in more regular clothes. Doing my hair took only a few minutes, my severe style was also very efficient, and soon I was as ready as he was.

I got my bag and coat and we walked down the stairs again in silence. I took the robe back to Paul's bedroom, where he was still fast asleep, and we had really strong coffee and some buns in the kitchen. We then went up the stairs again to the front door, for a day at the building site. When we left the house, Lukas' mood became sunny again.

He loved the sun in his face, and I ruffled his hair and kissed his warm lips, he was so adorable in his ecstasy over being outside again. Soon he was laughing, and he suddenly said: 'I was going to check the trees, let's not forget that.' So we looked at every tree we passed, noting any that were not thriving, planning to visit them for a closer look on our way back.

'Was it any different?' he asked me. I replied: 'No it wasn't Lukas, it was as good as always, you are a fabulous lover. I know it was my problem, getting jealous, please don't beat yourself up over it.' But he didn't go for it as easily as that: 'I can't help thinking that if Paul wants to learn to share more, maybe I should learn to share a little less.

I'm in your culture now, and maybe I should share only if my heart is really in it. Yesterday was just exercise, like dancing, I did it because they asked and because we were all hot and giddy.' I was impressed, but also worried: 'Please don't mind our morals too much Lukas, you have a right to be different, you need the love more than we do.'

He beamed at me, took my hands and spun me around, saying: 'You give me plenty of love, you and Paul. I know you will be more intimate with each other from now on, but feeling love around me feeds me too. And who knows, maybe he will let me join you some day. And I'll keep sharing love, just not like that, not as a sport. It will only get me in trouble.'

I looked at him in amazement, and took his hands: 'Good for you! That reminds me, Lukas, as long as we're on the site we cannot be intimate. It is my work, and I need to be seen as a professional. So let's not touch more than necessary, we'll make up for it later.'

We had only three more blocks to go, and then Lukas would see the most beautiful building in all the city, the construction of which I had the privilege to be part of. It was a smaller version of the Crystal Palace, designed by a real architect, and much more ornate, the cast iron shaped like floral stalks, decorated with gargoyles and dragons.

It was to be used as a winter garden, planted with lush evergreen vegetation, heated with a modern boiler like Paul's designs, and strewn with little seats and shelters, giving the owner a feeling of being outside in winter. They'd probably have all kinds of parties and meetings there, for all their high-born or well-to-do friends. Of course it cost a fortune to build, and it would cost a fortune to maintain, but that was not unheard of in these days of technology, when people were making several fortunes exploiting mills and factories.

We turned another corner, and then the gate was right before us. Lukas walked close to me, as I passed through it, waving at the man watching it today. I went straight to the little cabin, getting my helmet and an extra for Lukas. He tried the largest size, but still his horn stumps didn't fit too well, so it hung a bit to one side, until he managed to use his stiff curls to pad it and it seemed firmly placed. No-one would notice.

The architect was not present, but the contractor of the iron construction was there. He greeted me and nodded at Lukas, asking: 'Apprentice?' I replied: 'Craft-master's apprentice, in cast iron and metal ornamentation, copper, bronze, brass for now. His master's a superb crafter of fine boilers, copper based mostly, high output, safety guarantee, but also very, very beautifully made.'

He looked interested, and approvingly said: 'That's a beautiful craft, boy, and with a future, mind you study hard and listen to your master, and you'll always have a way to make a living.' Lukas answered very politely: 'I will, sir, thank you.'

The contractor added: 'You'll be wanting to see the construction then, and the ornamentation. Boiler is not delivered yet, the whole heating system is made to order and only the pipes have been delivered so far. I don't think the boiler will be all copper, or ornamented. They'll probably hide it behind a tropical bush. Enjoy the tour!'

Lukas bowed in acknowledgement, a polite and very elegant gesture that reminded me I had had the impression before that he was from a good family. I certainly hadn't learned fine manners like that at home, and I made a mental note to ask him about his family and his youth soon.

I started our tour by showing Lukas the building, climbing on the scaffolding still in place. Most of the building was covered in glass now, and the ornaments had been added to the outside of the iron construction. Lukas studied everything minutely, often touching a bit of metalwork, looking at the way the glass was set in the frame.

We rounded the building, ending where we had started, where the support had been replaced. I asked Lukas: 'Do you feel the emanations of the iron?' He replied: 'I do, and touching it makes me uncomfortable. I think we are relatives to the faeries, I can imagine them disliking such quantities of cold hard iron.' He handed me down from the scaffolding, and then we were allowed to go inside the building for an inspection.

There was a lot going on in here already in preparation for the building being finished from the outside, ditches were dug for the pipes of the heating, pipes were attached to the beams overhead, for the watering of the lush vegetation that would thrive here in the artificial heat. Some landscaping was already being done, a little hill was raised in the middle of the space, with a grotto inside made out of brick and sandstone.

'Do you think I should 'feel' the piping and the boiler before they are installed?' I asked Lukas, and he replied: 'Certainly, think of all the pressure that will build up inside, a boiler with a casting error might explode any moment, same for the pipes, they'll have to handle a lot of pressure and heat. They'll be buried, so digging them up from under the landscaping if they develop leaks will be very costly.'

I decided he was right, and I took him to the pile of pipes straight away: 'Let's make ourselves useful then, I feel, and you keep me upright afterwards, to the cabin for a cup of coffee.'

No expense had been spared, for the piping was all made of copper. I sat down next to a pile, concentrated, then felt each pipe, one by one. There was a whole stack of them, and though I had progressed a lot in my magic, this was still very tiring.

When I was through, I went to the next stack, made up of larger pipes. I checked those as well, and when that was done I really was staggering with fatigue. Lukas helped me up, then gave me his arm to lean on, and with his help I managed to reach the cabin without tripping or showing my weakness. Fortunately the pipes were all well-made.

I wanted to check the parts that would be used to make the connections as well, but that was not going to succeed today, my energy for magic was spent. In front of the cabin were wooden benches for the workers to sit on during breaks, and Lukas left me on one of these, then set off in search for a cup of coffee for me.

He returned with two cups, black for me, and laden with cream for himself. With a bit of rest and some coffee I soon felt much better, and we set out to explore the grounds around the building site.

It was a nice park, with a beautiful lake in the middle, and winding paths around it. There was a little romantic ruin set on a hill, which tempted us to sit down for a moment and enjoy the view on the building.

We didn't dare to kiss, though the place did ask for it, but it was too close to my work. We checked out every clump of trees that didn't look thriving, and found four that showed the same symptoms as the ones in the little park near us. They were not the same species, and they were not in the same environment, some were on high ground, and some beside the lake.

Discussing what they might have in common, Lukas had a very strange but plausible observation: they were the ones in the most picturesque spots. The most beautiful trees in the prettiest spots were indeed the ones affected, as if someone were jealous of their beauty, spoiling it out of envy. I didn't dare to 'feel' the trees after using so much magic for the pipes, so we just noted their sites.

After this, I fetched the latest drawings and measurements to check at home, and we left. On the way back we took a closer look at each of the trees we had singled out for a return visit, and we found one more that looked affected.

Lukas observed: 'I find it hard to believe that this would be coincidence, look at the beauty of this place. I'd like to paint you in this precise spot, too bad I have no talent.' I instantly saw myself posing there in a dress, draped over some branch, and laughed at the image of myself I had created. But then I thought of something and told Lukas: 'You no longer need talent to take a likeness of someone, have you ever heard of photographs?'

He hadn't, so I promised him to show him some in a shop in our part of town. We picked up some fresh fruit on our way home, and arrived with a healthy appetite.

As we came in, the sound of a ringing hammer was music to my ears, I had hoped Paul would be at home. Since he was not doing something that required intense concentration, he immediately spotted us coming in, and the hammering sound stopped the same moment.

He looked at me that way again, and I stopped breathing for a moment, until my body decided it didn't need me to breathe, and went on all by itself.

I heard the clunk of a hammer being laid down, and Paul came towards me as if he was in a trance. We embraced, then kissed as if we hadn't seen each other in weeks instead of hours. He said: 'When I woke up, you were gone.'

I touched his cheeks, and replied: 'I tried to say goodbye, but you kept falling asleep.' He told me: 'I was sorry to have missed you, I suppose I was very tired, I woke really late, too late to visit Sir Nomes and be back in time for lunch. I thought maybe we could all go this afternoon.' Here, Lukas spoke up: 'We have a working theory, it will be interesting to see if it fits his grounds too.'

Now Paul greeted him too, with a tight hug and an intense kiss. Lukas was beaming, he really did love Paul a lot, I could easily see that. Paul said: 'Let's have lunch, so we'll be at Sir Nomes' at a decent time.

At the table, the guys mainly talked shop, how large a boiler one would need to heat a glass building the size of my project to tropical temperatures, and how much fuel it would need to stay hot enough night and day. And whether it would be affordable to make it out of copper, how great the risk of overheating would be, and so forth and so on.

I thought it was all very interesting, and I was impressed how much knowledge Lukas already had gained in his few months here. 'Would one need a reserve boiler in case the first one breaks down? Tropical plants will die if they get too cold,' he wondered. 'I guess they could just stoke a big fire in case of a dire emergency,' I put in my two cents.

'That is true,' he mused, 'but wouldn't the fumes hurt the plants?' We could keep this up for hours, but there was still the matter of the trees, so I put Lukas' theory to Paul: 'Lukas thinks the affected trees may have been targeted by someone jealous of their beauty, all the ailing ones are the most beautiful groups of trees set in the prettiest spots. He even wanted to paint me in one, except he says he has no talent for drawing.'

Did I see Paul suppress a flicker of jealousy here? I went on: 'I promised to show him a photograph soon, he's never seen one.' Oh well, I supposed that couldn't be helped, I would also feel its sting again, I was sure of that. We had a last cup of tea, then cleared off the table. Lukas proved to be a very subtle fellow in his own right, asking: 'Can we take an hour longer before we go? I missed my morning run and I'd like to take one now.'

If this wasn't an excuse to leave us by ourselves for an hour, I couldn't have guessed what it was. We'd been walking the whole morning, and we'd be walking the whole afternoon.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

But Paul took the offer gratefully and said: 'I guess we can. If you go immediately, we'll wash up.' And Lukas was off. We did the washing up, and then Paul seemed struck by shyness all of a sudden, which I found very enticing, he was usually so bossy and in control that it made him more human somehow.

Of course I had a plan all ready. 'If we're going to someone of a high class, I'd rather dress up a little. Or a lot. I'd feel less uncomfortable. You know more about what is suitable, will you come with me to help find a proper dress?'

'Sir Nomes is not the kind for formalities,' Paul said, 'but if you feel better dressed up, I'll come with you, I love seeing you in a dress. And between dresses.' I thought: you'll love me even better in the shower, for that was of course my plan. Not suspecting a thing, Paul followed me upstairs and into my apartment.

We went into my bedroom, where I unpinned my hair, letting it fall to its full length and glory. I enjoyed his reaction, and silently thanked Lukas for his attentiveness in making it possible. My jacket and blouse were next, I hung them on a peg neatly. Then I took off my skirts, accidentally removing my underwear as well. I was now naked, and invited Paul in my arms.

He came of course, how could he refuse, he was a man and he was desperately in love with me. I embraced him and kissed him, really passionately now. Then I started to unbutton his shirt, and he didn't protest. I kissed his neck and chest, and sucked his nipples gently. He shivered, and started to return my caresses slowly, intently.

After his shirt, I started on his pants, which were of course removed in a second. I took his penis in my mouth, which gave him an immense shock, I'd never done that before now, and the intensity of his response surprised me. Of course I was used to Lukas, who'd done it all before a zillion times.

Now, I moved towards the shower, inviting Paul to follow me, which he did. I turned the taps on and waited until the water was just right, then I moved us both under the lovely warm flow. I kneeled down and continued where I had left off.

But all too soon he removed himself from my mouth, too exited I guess. He wanted to do the same for me, so I lay down on the shower floor, water still raining down on us both. With tongue and fingers he soon had me gasping for air, and he penetrated me still within that high, dripping with water, curls plastered to his ecstatic face. He was clearly learning to let himself go, which pleased me a lot. He could use some loosening up.

Soon I could not longer think, my passion taking over, and I moved along with him on the wet floor, relishing this intense moment with the man who could stop my heart just by looking at me in a certain way. I felt a climax coming rapidly, and I welcomed it, groaning with pleasure, writhing under my muscled inventor.

Curiously, he wasn't at his high yet, had he already learned to control it? Somehow I hoped not. But when he detached himself I knew what he wanted, and when he stood again I kneeled in front of him, and still under the shower I mouthed his penis again, moving it over my tongue rhythmically until I felt him reaching his climax with a cry of release.

That was a very hot flow coming out of him, too much of it to my taste, so I let it dribble out of my mouth and took a large gulp of shower water to get rid of the intense taste. He looked very satisfied, but a bit quizzed at my reaction. 'I'd never tasted it before, it's really hot and salty, not very nice, 'I said.

He said: 'I'm sorry.' But how could he have known? I hadn't, and I told him so. We were both still learning. I suspect Lukas did know, he never let it get this far, though I supposed he also loved thrusting too much.

We stayed under the shower long enough to rinse the sweat off, then we switched off the tap and dried each other.

And after that, I really did show him my dresses and tried on the ones he liked best. We decided I would wear a dark blue dress, a bit more modest that the one from last night, but still ravishing. I wondered if he would want to have another go, seeing his expression when he looked at me, but he never asked or started.

So I let him tie the front of the dress, and he even braided my hair in a style that looked decidedly pagan. But since we were going to visit one of his allies, I supposed it was decent enough, and it certainly presented my hair at its very best. There were clearly advantages to dating an artist.

He asked shyly: 'Will you wear my horses again?' which was the sweetest thing. I couldn't say a word, but I looked my answer, and that made him very happy.

We were so cute and shy together, it almost made me cry. Going back downstairs, Paul fetched the horses and fastened them around my white throat. He kissed me as he always did when I was wearing a dress, almost worshipful. Then Lukas came in, and his entrance did not break the mood, it rather enhanced it. He looked at us in admiration, and clearly enjoyed seeing our love. How did he do it, enjoy what would make anyone else jealous?

Maybe it was to him what reading a love-scene was to me, that nice shivery feeling one got when Mr Darcy and Elisabeth finally understood each other.

Paul asked Lukas if he would want to keep the necklace he borrowed last night, and Lukas' face clearly showed that he would. Paul fetched it as well, and fastened it on his neck, kissing him intimately afterwards.

He did that magnificently, and I enjoyed the sight as well. Then Paul sniffed our marathon runner and said: 'Too bad we just more or less emptied the boiler, you'll have to take a tepid shower.' Lukas took the hint and replied: 'You better take that necklace off me again then, and I'll run upstairs really quickly. Which he did.

Soon we set off for Sir Nomes' manor, in a direction I didn't go very often, because it went straight through one of the lesser neighbourhoods, then to an industrial area near the river. Both places were very depressing, the first with poverty, tattered children, dirty streets, not a safe place to be for a girl like me, the second even filthier and totally desolate. I couldn't actually think of a single reason to go there.

Thinking of the search, I asked Paul: 'Is the industrial site ahead the one you saw in the search?' Paul nodded, clearly not looking forward to what we might see when we passed through there. 'Is it still within your quarter?' I went on.

This time, he spoke: 'It is, though only just. When we are there I'll show you the boundary. It is one of the least pleasant places within my quarter, and I've wished I could do something about it since I became guardian here, but I haven't had the responsibility for this quarter very long yet, I have no idea how to do such a thing.

The owner of the site has it protected from my sight somehow, I'm still thinking on a solution. And now the dryads are caught there, within my quarter, but in a part of it where I don't have any real influence yet.' That explained his strong reaction to the search yesterday, it was born in frustration. I took his hand and squeezed it a little, to let him know I was with him on this.

We were in the poor quarter now, and we all kept a close watch on what was going on around us. I wasn't afraid, but I didn't feel comfortable either, in my dress that yelled 'rich' even though I'd earned every penny it had cost myself.

But I believed my men looked strong enough to deter any attacks, and I supposed Paul must have some allies here. When I got a sense of something following us, I kept an eye on it for a while, to see if my feeling was real, and when it did follow us turn by turn, always at a safe distance, I looked at Paul worriedly and said: 'We are being followed.'

Lukas apparently had noticed too, and nodded at my mentioning it. Now Paul looked a lot older and wiser again, as he calmly told us: 'I know, I asked some of my friends to keep an eye out. I'm not going to walk through this area with you dressed up like a lady and only two unarmed skinny men to protect you.

I've some pretty awesome allies here, they'll escort us to the industrial area, then go home until we return.' I felt kind of relieved, though I did not expect the three of us to be helpless. Still there was the large, desolated industrial are to cross: 'Aren't you afraid we'll be set upon there?'

He replied: 'Somehow, the people from this neighbourhood don't go there, they say it has bad mojo, bad magic. I haven't been able to pinpoint any active magic, I could see it if someone was using power from the ley-lines or nodes in my own quarter, and even outside it.

So any magic anyone could use without my noticing would have to be personal power, but no-one has much of that. Of course, my not being able to use my sight there is a kind of clue that something is afoot, but I've not been able to find out what.'

Here Lukas had something to say: 'I'll help. I can nearly disappear if I want to, I'm invisible yet to magical sight, and I have it myself. I'm not as helpless as I look either, even without sharp horns.'

This had us both staring at him, and he repeated: 'I'm serious, I can help find out things. They'll see you coming from miles away, you shine like beacons to magic sight. I'm used to being sneaky and I'm really good at it. I know how to fight with a knife and wrestle and my head is so hard I can butt nearly anyone unconscious, and though these stumps can't gore anyone like my horns could, they can't get stuck in things either, that's a big risk for horn users.'

Seeing that he was totally serious, and not afraid at all, Paul told him: 'I'll remember that when I need someone to sneak in somewhere. That may be the answer here, subterfuge instead of magic. Thank you.'

We were now approaching the desolate industrial site, and I planned to keep a really sharp eye out, and not just eyes, but all my senses, including my new magical sense if needed. Our escort stayed behind, their presence disappearing from my senses.

There were still houses here and there, but they were in ruins, their empty window sills staring at us reproachfully. This was really the other side of town, remembering the park where we were just that morning, and the enormous glass building I was helping to build. What a total waste of time and money, to spend so much resources on a few families, and let the rest live in squalor. We saw no children, Paul said they'd hide if someone came close.

I am not ashamed to say I was nearly in tears, crossing that woeful place. The road was covered in filth, there was garbage everywhere, and not just garbage, but also broken down stuff that was still recognizable, anything people didn't want anymore. The place was a horror, my worst nightmare had been a walk in the park compared to where we were walking now.

I sent out my feeling to see if I picked something up, and I saw several living things in a heap in one of the derelict buildings. Those children, probably. That should not be happening in Paul's quarter, that should not happen anywhere.

I felt really guilty, having had such a safe and happy life. Feeling ahead, I found smaller sources of life as well, though I sadly couldn't see the difference between a small animal, say a rat or a stray dog, and a faerie.

What was the use for the owner to keep such a dump near his factory? He could house his workers there, real estate was expensive in a big city like this, even though the air was clearly bad. There must be something else going on, something other people shouldn't see, something shady. We were now approaching the factory building, the only building on this piece of land that was in perfect repair, and Paul wanted to show me the boundary before the building filled our view. He pointed to spot near the river, and I felt at it, which was my way to describe magic sight. It was difficult to project it so far ahead, but I managed, and I did indeed see a shimmering line right across the landscape, following the course of the river.

Near the river itself, I spotted a weird phenomenon, it seemed like a lake of phosphorescence, spilling over into the river. The phosphorescence pulsated, as if it were alive. I was by now getting used to interpreting my sight, or feeling, as I called it. Metals were made up out of a clear grid emanating a tone. This stuff had no grid, and no emanations. It looked most like the flow in Lukas' horns or in the trees, except there was no flow in it.

I tried to memorise the look and feel of it, wanting to go nearer but at the same time glad I couldn't. By now I was convinced that this was the thing the owner of the factory was hiding, the reason why he allowed this filthy depressing plain of human waste to exist.

I came back to the now, and my knees buckled. Paul caught me, kept me upright, with a worried look and he asked: 'Are you all right, was it so hard for you to look for the boundary?' I replied: 'No, I found that straight away. But I saw something by the river's edge that is not as it should be. Please hold me up so I can look at it with normal sight.'

But with normal sight, there was nothing different from the rest of the dismal place. I pointed the spot out to Lukas and Paul, however, they didn't see anything amiss from this distance. We decided to walk on, it was already very unusual for people to cross this site, and we didn't want the owner to become suspicious.

For Lukas was right, anyone with magic sight could see Paul and me light up with it, and to me especially, that could be really dangerous. I needed Paul's arm to lean on, but of course he didn't mind that at all. I was surprised it took so much out of me, but I supposed feeling that far might be harder, and of course I had already used a lot of magic on site. Still, I was determined to feel the building as well, until Paul said: 'Please don't use sight on that building, Melissa, you're tired and if someone in there has your signature from just now he could attack you when you're defenceless.

I don't know if I could help you. You can try on the way back, if you feel stronger, or another time. I don't want to risk you, I like you much better with a brain.' I shivered and did not feel the building, really uncomfortable now.

The building was huge, it was a hall filled with machines that could spin and weave wool much faster than a person. People worked in it all day and part of the evening, keeping the machines going was important, for a machine that was standing still was not making the owner any money. Most of the raw wool was brought to the factory by ship, and the finished woollen cloth was taken away by the same ships.

We passed the building quickly, entering a different part of town altogether, with very high buildings, apartments most likely, not exactly poor, but rather lifeless. 'Where are all the people?' I asked, and Paul answered: 'At work, in that factory.'

Of course, but there should be children in the street, so I asked: 'But where are the children then? At school?' 'Also in the factory,' was the pained answer, 'working.' I didn't want to know anymore, my heart ached for those destitute children, but who could hope to save children if their own parents allowed them to work in a factory?

My parents weren't rich, but I had had a youth, playing in the streets with the other neighbourhood children. Once we had crossed this neighbourhood as well, we came to what looked like a woodland park, but with a high fence around it. Paul followed the fence for a while, until we came to a gate. He announced himself to the gate-keeper, and was shown in immediately. We were also allowed to pass.

The contrast was incredible, the quiet freshness of a wood in summer surrounded us instantly, as we walked on a well hardened path between the trees. Soon, the trees opened on a beautiful scenic landscape, with grass-covered hills surrounded by lines of trees, and with stunning solitary trees scattered here and there among the hills. It seemed endless, what was this doing in a town?


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Reading our question in our expressions, Paul said: 'Sir Nomes' family lived here well before the city spread over the rest of the woods, and he is rich enough even now to refuse to sell at even the steepest prices offered.

He is an adept in a different magic tradition from me, he has enough magic to keep the woods unspoiled, even with smoking factory and coal-burning high-rises next door. He is my main ally here, I've had a lot of help from him since I became a guardian when the former one, hmm, passed away.'

Now Lukas interjected: 'Do I get the feeling here that few guardians reach their retirement?' Paul could not lie, so he didn't even try: 'Ours is a hazardous profession, but if we survive the rough first years, we generally live quite long in very good health. The last guardian was nearly a hundred and fifty years old. He was very good, and never felt the need to retire. Though he did leave me with this mess, that factory and its unsavoury owner.

If we follow this path, we'll reach the house in ten minutes.' But we didn't need to walk any further, for a small carriage with two very cute miniature ponies came towards us at breakneck speed. It drove a surprisingly small circle around us and came to a sliding stop just in front of us. The driver, a girl of about ten years old, was dressed in a semblance of a livery, but very elegantly, and her hair was done expertly. This was no personnel, this was one of the family.

'May I offer you lady and gentlemen a ride in my carriage please,' the girl said politely, lifting her cap like a real coach-driver, showing blonde curls. Paul evidently knew her, for he bowed to her and spoke, just as politely: 'You may, Miss Bertha Nomes.' The girl called out: 'Paul, it's you! You've come back! Who are your friends?'

I bet she would have liked to hug him like the old friend he apparently was to her, but she needed to keep her hands on the reins to control the team, which she did admirably. Paul walked up to her and kissed her, saying: 'May I introduce my friends to you, Miss Melissa Thorn, who is an engineer, and my esteemed apprentice Mr Lukas.

What is your last name, Lukas? I don't remember ever asking.' 'You didn't,' was Lukas' answer, 'my last name is Hermeides, Lykos Hermeides is my full name, and I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Nomes.' That last of course said to the girl, with an flourishing bow. He must indeed be noble, was my immediate thought, to talk to a girl of such breeding so easily.

The girl said: 'That is a weird name, how did you get that?' Still very politely, and very elegantly, he replied: 'It is a Greek name, Miss, I'm from Greece. My father was called Hermes, and in Greece 'ídes' means, son of. And Lukos means wolf, but I've taken a more English sounding name, Lukas, or I'd be explaining myself every time I meet someone new.'

The girl thought about this, then said: 'I was named after my grandmother. I'm pleased to meet you, will you ride in the carriage?' Lukas clearly looked forward to speeding in that carriage, and gladly accepted. Paul and I confirmed as well, and as soon as we were seated, the ponies sped away, apparently not even feeling our combined weight.

The girl was a good driver, though it was clear she was instructed to take it slowly with visitors. She was chatting to Lukas, who had sat down next to her, and I heard her offer to show him what the ponies could do after Paul and I had gotten out of the carriage. He laughingly accepted, looking forward to a really fast ride.

He did like speed in everything, he'd be thrilled to fly over those rolling hills with another adrenalin junkie.

In just a minute we were at the house, a lovely rambling building, covered in an antique but thriving wisteria. It was not what I had expected from such a respectable family, but of course Paul had told me they were pagans as well, so in a way it wasn't that surprising to find their home much more liveable and a lot less stately than one would expect.

A very elegant man was standing in front of the house, dressed simply, but with so much attention to detail that I was convinced straight away that this was the master of the house. I would have given him forty five years, fifty at most, and though his hair was greying it didn't make him look old, but rather distinguished.

Paul got out of the carriage and helped me out, claiming me in a subtle way, I sensed. Lukas stayed where he was, at Miss Bertha's insistence I guess, for she merely waved at her father and they were off, top speed this time. They disappeared into the hills in a frighteningly short time, and Sir Nomes watched the scene mildly, assuring us: 'She's a really good driver, and the team is totally reliable, your friend will be perfectly safe.'

Then he shook hands cordially with Paul, saying: 'Dear Paul, it has been too long, why do we always let so much time slip by before we meet again?' Paul replied in the same tone: 'I have no idea, George, I also wonder each time we meet. May I introduce you to Miss Melissa Thorn, my apprentice in the arts, and my house-mate.'

Shaking hands with Sir Nomes I had a distinct feeling I was being measured, but I had no clue why, or to which standard, until our host addressed Paul very directly: 'More that just a house-mate I see, and not only an adornment if she is your apprentice as well.' This made Paul look a little embarrassed, but I would find out why only later.

Now Sir Nomes looked at me and said: 'Welcome to the family, Melissa. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better the coming hour or so.' And if I may ask, who is Bertha's willing victim? I'll shake hands with him later, if he doesn't shake already with fear.'

This made Paul laugh, and I heard his doubt colour his voice: 'I think your Bertha has met her match in daredevilry in my apprentice in the other arts, Lukas Hermeides. He's Greek, and he revels in speed of any kind.'

Now Sir Nomes looked at Paul speculatively, and bit suspiciously: 'And is he also a house-mate? He doesn't look altogether human in his aura, if he is what his Greek origins suggest, he may need some extra attention in that quarter.'

Resignedly, Paul observed: 'As sharp as ever, but don't worry, your girl will be perfectly safe with him.' This made Sir Nomes chuckle, and he retorted: 'I wasn't thinking of my girl, but of my esteemed wife, and I wasn't afraid for her, but for him.' Paul shrugged, and replied: 'He can take care of himself, and he is indeed an expert in the noble art lady Nomes enjoys so much.'

These guys were having a whole conversation around me, I knew they were exchanging a lot of innuendo, but understood only smatterings.

Sir Nomes shrugged too, and replied: 'We each have our interests, my Frances and I, and of course we have our four lovely children. But let's not just stand here, let me introduce Miss Thorn to the rest of the family, and have a refreshment. I'm sure you had a long trip, and you, my young lady, look just about done for.'

Which was true, my magic use had really tired me, and seeing all those awful scenes didn't improve my energy. The beautiful scenery here did a lot to improve my mood, but it did not revive me enough, a cup of coffee would be very welcome to do that.

Paul did nothing to hide our intimacy, so I felt free to use his arm to support me as we followed our host around the house to the back garden. It was stunning, the most beautiful garden I had ever seen.

I stood speechless, and when Paul took me to a comfortable chair I could still only gape at the combinations of plants, the trees, the ornaments, everything was in the best taste and totally one. 'Please sit down Miss,' our host said concernedly, 'we don't stand on ceremony here.' He really looked at me now, and turning towards Paul: 'What did you two do, have a duel with an evil warlock?'

Helping me into the seat, Paul answered the frivolous question deadly seriously: 'That is connected to the goal of our visit. Melissa has a special talent for seeing through things, and it is constantly developing, she is discovering new uses all the time, seeing things we don't. But every new discovery has a great price.

She has just seen something amiss at the factory, and combined with the state of the land there and the homeless children, she is at the limit of her energy.'

Sir Nomes nodded understandingly, and, ringing a bell, he said calmingly: 'I understand. Well, we are a family with a long tradition not only in magic but also in herb-lore, and I have just the thing to put your talent at ease.'

A servant had appeared, and our host asked him: 'Please make Miss Melissa here a cup of tea from the red jar, and be generous with the honey.' The servant disappeared in the house, and returned almost immediately with a steaming cup of tea still steeping.

I was amazed how quickly he had done that, until I realized they probably had one of Paul's lovely boilers in the kitchen. No, not in the kitchen, they had staff to man the kitchen. They probably had it somewhere visible, Paul's boilers were too beautiful to hide away.

The tea smelled like the stuff I had used to revive Paul after the search, very stimulating. And when I drank it, it tasted differently, that was the honey of course. But it also felt different, now I had overused my magic it not only revived me, it also resolved a starting headache, and it kind of filled up a sort of emptiness inside me, as if it replenished part of the energy the working of magic had taken out of me.

I asked Paul: 'Is this the same tea I made for you after the search?' and he answered: 'It is, I have a supply at my place as well, which I get from the mistress of the house. I'm surprised you recognised it with the honey added.' I replied: 'I smelled it, it does taste differently. And it works incredibly well, even my magical energy seems restored.'

Here it was our host's turn to be surprised: 'You can feel that? Then I know why you're Paul's apprentice. My esteemed wife is our herb specialist, she has also designed and planted this lovely garden. She's probably at work in her greenhouse, I'll take you to her later and introduce you to her, there is something I'd like to ask Paul about that greenhouse anyway. But now, why don't you tell me what you came to discuss?'

In the meantime, Paul and he had sat down as well, and servants brought coffee and a silver plate with beautifully decorated cakes. Our host urged us to 'dig in' the cakes, and since we've had a long walk I was eager to try one.

They were as delicious as they were pretty, and after another one of those cups of special tea, which Sir Nomes ordered especially for me, I was handed a cup of coffee. I often drank coffee, but this was not ordinary coffee, it was so much better, even better than Mr Millner's.

Our host thoroughly enjoyed my expression as I took my first sip, and he triumphantly said: 'Good, isn't it? The misses again, she imports this stuff from a special farm in the Indies. She's taken a fancy to trying to grow some herself, wouldn't put it past her do do it, and successfully, she has the greenest fingers I've ever had the privilege to see on a person. But we'll get to that point later. First things first.'

Paul now summarised to Sir Nomes what we had seen so far: 'It all started in a little park near my home, I spotted a clump of trees that was not doing well, they were dying for lack of care by their dryads. The dryads didn't come out to greet me either. That was yesterday morning. I did a search that afternoon, with Melissa anchoring me.'

This sounded so defensive I suspected Paul had been berated in the past by Sir Nomes for searching on his own, and our host's comment proved it: 'Good, so you've finally found some sense somewhere.'

Paul just continued: 'We saw that wasteland adjoining the factory, the destitute children, and we saw the dryads there, filthy as sin, faces blank, living in trash-cans and filling them with worthless junk objects, arranged as if they were precious belongings.'

'They were hoarding?' our host exclaimed. Obviously remembering the shocking scene, Paul replied: 'They most certainly were. They didn't care about their trees anymore, nor each other, just the junk they collected.

This morning, Lukas and Melissa checked another park close to her day-job, and found four more possibly affected trees. She didn't dare check by sight, for she'd already used quite a lot of magic this morning. I wondered if you had similar happenings here, and if you'd ever heard of this before.' Sir Nomes took his time contemplating what Paul had told him.

He said: 'Please take another cup of coffee, some more cakes, I'll have to think about this for a while.' And of course we did, it was such good fare, it was not just our host being rich, these people clearly cared about what they ate and drank, and were knowledgeable about food, especially plant based I guessed.

As we were munching on another cake, and Sir Nomes was digesting information, a young man nearly my own age came in. He immediately embraced Paul, who had stood up to greet him.

'It's been such a long time again,' the young man said, 'who's your pretty friend, can I hug her too?' They were clearly very good friends, laughingly Paul introduced me: 'Marcus, this is Melissa Thorn, my apprentice in the arts, and also my house-mate.

Melissa, this is Marcus Nomes, the eldest and at the same time only son of Sir Nomes. He wants to hug you.' I accepted his hug of course, Paul and him were apparently such good friends, I hoped we would be friends too.

Marcus said appreciatively: 'House-mates, eh?'

What was it with these guys? They sounded more like teenage boys than high nobility, though of course Marcus probably still was in his teens, so he had a certain right to talk like that.

'We've brought another friend, who was abducted by your youngest sister, to show how fast her ponies could run,' Paul said.

'I hope he has a strong stomach,' Marcus observed, 'riding in that carriage always makes me slightly nauseous, but that may be my sister's driving style.' I put in my two cents: 'Lukas thrives on speed, so I guess he will be just fine.'

Marcus now poured a cup of coffee and selected a few cakes from the plate, sitting down with his booty on the table in front of him.

By now, Sir Nomes had come out of his near-trance, and told us what he'd remembered: 'I've heard of dryads leaving their trees before, I didn't experience it myself but was told about it by a colleague from Ireland.

Of course they have many more faeries there, the landscape being much less overpopulated and spoiled than ours. These faeries left their trees because their souls had been stolen by a warlock, and they moved towards the place where their souls were, in this case the warlock's castle. I think they were also hoarding, but pine-cones and stones and feathers, natural stuff.

When the warlock was destroyed, the dryads got their souls back and moved back to their trees. Whether any survived with their trees in such a bad shape I don't know, the story didn't say. Let's ask Frances as well, trees are her domain, so she may know about dryads as well.'

Marcus had been listening to his father intently, and he now spoke up: 'I've noticed several trees not looking well on our own grounds, dad, I was meaning to tell you. I saw them when I was out hunting the day before yesterday. It was the clump of birches in the swampy bit, where the moss hangs in the trees.

And the old oak on the second hill, too bad, such a beautiful tree. But I thought it was just old.'

Sir Nomes replied: 'Oaks can get as old as seven hundred years, boy, but I'm glad you thought to tell me now. I'll check them out.

Bertha can drive us there with the show ponies. The ones she's using now will probably be quite tired when she gets back.' Marcus was shocked: 'You'll let her drive the show ponies? You wouldn't let me until I was at least fifteen, and I never came as near breaking anyone's neck as she does her own every day!'

Indulgently, Sir Nomes told his son: 'I'm not letting her drive them on her own, I'll be there with her the whole time.

And though you may not believe it, she can control both herself, and those ponies.' Marcus now proved he was indeed still a teenager, for he shrugged and said: 'Whatever.'

I thought it would be wise to keep him away from Lukas, for if they were to like one another, interesting things might happen, involving raves and plenty of city girls.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

In the meantime, Paul had digested Sir Nomes' information: 'So you think the dryads have had their souls taken away, probably by someone using evil magic. What is the use of a stolen soul?' Our host replied: 'If one owns a stolen soul, it gives magical power that cannot be seen, it leaves no traces to our sight.'

Of course, this made even me suspicious of the owner of that factory. His terrain was impenetrable by magic sight, according to Paul, that couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Paul now asked: 'What would be the most efficient way to check your grounds for affected trees? Besides the two Marcus mentioned?'

Our host answered: 'We can start with those, and I will ask the grounds-keeper and any staff who like rambles or trysts or who gather mushrooms and herbs. Bertha too, she moves around a lot, though generally a bit too fast to notice individual trees.

Oh, and Julia, my middle daughter, has a boyfriend who takes photographs, he likes to hang around on our grounds to find beautiful sights, he may have seen something amiss with the trees. He's taking romantic pictures of Julia in a white dress against a background of beautiful trees.'

Whilst said in the same indulgent voice as his youngest driving the valuable show ponies, this remark triggered something in me, though I couldn't for the life of me figure out what.

Sir Nomes now gave an order, actually more like a request, to one of the servants, and the young man disappeared to the other side of the house. Another request to another servant, and she disappeared into the house.

'I've asked the grounds-keeper and the cook and her helpers to come by and answer some questions,' our host said. When Bertha comes back I'll have the other ponies harnessed, and we'll drive by Frances' greenhouse to ask her, though she prefers the tamer variety trees, the ones that yield fruit or beautiful flowers.

Dryads generally avoid those, though they like Frances. Your friend is sure enjoying himself with Bertha, I'd expected them to be back by now.' I must admit, I was worried too, but I refused to admit to my feelings. I had no idea of his morals towards young girls, but I was certain he'd never hurt anyone, he was too sensitive to do that.

I guessed they had just speeded away too far, or tired the ponies too much, having to walk them back. 'She's probably showing him the sights,' Paul remarked, and as it turned out when they did return, that guess approached the truth best.

After discussing faeries some more, Bertha finally came back to the house, without Lukas and without ponies. She eagerly helped herself to some cakes, then, munching, told us: 'Your friend sure likes going fast!

I couldn't scare him no matter how I tried, so we gave the ponies a breather, and as we were pretty far from the house he asked if we had any particularly pretty spots with trees and water and stuff. So I showed him the ruins, with the Japanese maple hanging over it, and he loved it. Got out of the carriage to check on the tree, don't know why.

And then I remembered showing Jonas, that's my sister's boyfriend, he takes photographs, I remembered showing him all the pretty trees too, so I gave Lukas the same tour. Sorry it took so long, but he did get out and checked every one of those trees.

A lot of them didn't look so good, and he wanted to go and tell you, but I told him mum was the expert on trees here so I took him to her greenhouse and she said to tell you that she'd give Lukas a tour of the greenhouse and think of a cure.'

At this report, Paul's and my host's faces were study in worry and some of that innuendo that seemed to surround this family, loving though it was. Sir Nomes told his daughter: 'Thank you for being so polite to our guest, dear Bertha, and for bringing word to us.

Now I want you to have the coachman harness the show ponies to the small carriage, you'll be driving us on exactly the same tour. But first I want to speak to the grounds-keeper and the cook and her helpers. Please let the coachman help you bring the carriage to the front: not by yourself, let him help. He stays with them, and you get us. Once we get in, you can drive.'

Now, Bertha registered what her father had said, and her face lightened up: 'I can drive the big ponies?' 'Yes, you can,' her father said, 'but not until I'm with you.'

When she was off, our host did indeed talk to his staff, who had arrived, out of breath for hurrying. The grounds-keeper added two more trees to our list, and the cook's helpers confirmed two suspects, and added another one.

Sir Nomes would plan them into our route as Bertha led us through it, and he asked me: 'You may want to use your sight to scan any trees around us, I think you will be able to pick out any trees we've missed. If it starts to cost too much energy, I'll show your house-mate here a trick to send his energy towards you.

No, I'll show it to him straight away, so you can keep your energy to yourself. He has plenty to spare.' And he immediately took Paul's hand and spoke to him sotto voce.

Paul's expression lightened, and he exclaimed: 'That's a neat trick, I didn't know that!' Sir Nomes' face took on a sly expression, a very weird sight on such a distinguished looking man, and he teased Paul: 'It takes a certain bond to work, explaining had no use until you'd formed that bond with someone. Had you given Ilsa what she wanted, you'd have known before.'

This allusion seemed to pain Paul, and he retorted, in a tone that proved they'd had this discussion before: 'You know I just couldn't, I explained years ago. And every year after that. Is she seeing someone now?'

Our host replied: 'I know, it's just hard to understand. You would have been so perfect together. She's not seeing someone, though I guess she soon will be, after today.' Innuendo, innuendo, I felt very much an outsider, and from what I understood of the hints, not a very welcome one.

But Sir Nomes would not let me feel that way for long, for he cordially told me: 'Did you know that Paul is a scion of a very noble family?'

I said: 'I suspected it.' 'Oh but he is. Much older and much nobler than the Nomes', he added, 'I wanted to marry my eldest into the Kenwick family, but he saw through me and told her he didn't love her that way. He was waiting for you, of course.'

Now Paul wanted to say something, but at that moment, Bertha came around the house, beaming, telling us our conveyance was ready. We stood up and followed her, and Paul again handed me into the carriage, then sat right next to me. He took one of my hands and squeezed it a little, I suppose he wanted to kiss me but that would not have been appropriate.

The horses that were now in front of the small carriage were half again as large as the miniatures, but still rather small. They were beautiful though, very slim, with dainty feet and long manes and tails, both dappled grey in colour, and clearly very spirited. They snorted and pawed the ground, and it was very obvious that the coach-master did not like the idea of Bertha driving these valuable beauties.

But Sir Nomes gave his youngest so much of his trust, that he didn't even sit on the box with her, he seated himself within the carriage on the bench opposite us, riding backwards. The girl was amazed by her father's trust, but I could also see the determination in her eye, she was not going to fail him. I thought he was right to trust her, and I felt completely safe in the care of this strong minded teenager.

As we set off, I asked: 'Will we pick up Lukas at the greenhouse?' Paul looked away for a moment, and Sir Nomes replied: 'He's had this tour before, I think I'll let Frances enjoy his company a little longer. She loves to talk Greek with young men who like going fast.'

Again, I got the feeling I was missing some family joke here, but I decided to ignore it, Sir Nomes was a very gracious host and Paul clearly loved him.

He was a valuable ally indeed, and the fact that an influential family that knew about non-human intelligent life lived so close was a great relief to me. Now, Lukas would have a place to go if ever something happened to Paul and me.

To Lukas, this was not a half-hour strenuous walk, but a ten minute run, and no-one would ever see him with his special talents. It was a weight off my shoulders, frankly.

Bertha did manage the spirited ponies perfectly, and soon had them in a fast trot towards the first grassy hill.

In minutes, we had reached the first stop, the ruins with the Japanese maple. It was a gorgeous small tree, small at least at the scale of this park. Its delicate leaves were feathered, dark brown in colour, and there were thousands of leaves on that single tree.

Excepting the unnatural colour, the tree looked fine. I looked at Paul questioningly, and he nodded. We got out of the carriage and climbed the ruins. They were not real, of course, but they looked picturesque. I could just touch the tree, and Paul took a firm hold of my hand, I think also to keep me from falling down the hill.

He said: 'Wait a moment before using the sight, let me connect with you. His face took on that blank look, and suddenly I felt a familiar presence connected to me really intimately, and a strong surge of power, not exactly a flow, but more like a tap still closed: the power touched me, but didn't flow through me. Yet, for I knew I could use it as if it were my own.

I had not felt his real power before, it was very heady to have it at my beck and call, and just to have this link to him was an intimacy transcending sexuality. I suddenly understood Sir Nomes' innuendo at Paul, at least about this link.

One would only link like this with someone one was very intimate with, if the connection was not already there, it would certainly form, with the inevitable results. I looked at Paul, wondering if he felt the same intense connection, and when I saw the ecstasy on his face, I wondered if I showed it as clearly.

It was nearly indecent in the presence of a ten year old. But of course Sir Nomes knew this would happen, and had seen to it that his daughter would be very busy keeping the spirited horses still and amused.

Taking my time to get used to the intimate bond first, I allowed myself to relish the feeling of total connection to my lover for some time. We might do this more often, maybe even in need, and if we both had a reaction this intense every time, it would surely kill us the first time we used it in a conflict situation.

When I had my feelings under control, I checked Paul, and he nodded affirmatively. Then, feeling Paul's power trickling into me to replace what I spent, I looked at the little tree. And it was fine, it was very strong, even happy, it had no dryad and had never had one, never wanted one.

It was the king of its world, standing on the top of the hill, with a view worth dying for. I switched back to normal sight, and suppressed an intense longing, to kiss Paul until we were both totally out of breath.

I heard a voice say: 'Don't suppress it, just indulge in it, after a few months of sharing power it will become habit and stop being so deucedly stirring. Unless you want it to, of course, got me four lovely children.'

Next thing I knew I was in Paul's arms, his mouth on mine, his actions echoing my fantasy. I missed his mental touch already, but remembering the number of trees on these grounds I realised I'd be in contact with him a lot more times.

We broke off our kiss reluctantly and slightly out of breath, then climbed off the ruin, and Paul handed me back in the coach. Bertha told the ponies to go, and they took off, in a reasonable trot.

The next tree was the large solitary oak Marcus had tipped, and it was indeed affected. It was in bad shape, having lost half its leaves, and some branches. I touched it with sight, and felt the same emptiness as the clump of trees in the little park had.

Paul felt it through me, another advantage of this intimate contact. We controlled the lust this time, it'd take all day to visit only half the number of trees we had on our list if we kept on indulging. Most of the trees on Bertha's route were indeed affected, and in bad or worse shape. Despite the number of trees we checked, and some broader scans of the trees around us, Paul did not show the strain yet, he had plenty of magical energy apparently.

Bertha was enjoying herself hugely, ferrying us about with her dad's best team at her command. When we were done she asked if she might let them run back, which her dad graciously allowed. He did change to the box, though, saying: 'I'm not going through a sprint riding backwards, I'll be sure to get sick. So you can go, but I'll be sitting next to you.'

Bertha was thrilled anyway, and we also got our thrill. Who knew such small legs could develop so much speed? It felt as if we flew, and within a few minutes we were across the field and on our way to the stables.

Once there, we got out of the carriage, and the coach-master got in, to walk the team dry. Bertha begged to go with them, and Sir Nomes allowed her to.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

We followed our host to the greenhouse, where he was planning to introduce me to his wife Frances. She was indeed in front of the greenhouse, on a little terrace in the middle of heaven. Her taste in gardening was acute, and it was clear that Lukas thought so too.

He was there with her, apparently very deeply in conversation with her, his posture very noble. What was it with him that he looked the most comfortable in situations that would confuse most people? I meant to find out, but not now.

First, lady Nomes embraced Paul and kissed him, held him at arms length and looked him over: 'You look well, Paul. Being a guardian agrees with you.' He said: 'Thank you Frances, may I introduce Melissa Thorn to you?

She is my apprentice in the arts, and what I forgot to mention earlier, she is also a qualified engineer. Melissa, my very good friend Lady Frances Nomes.' We shook hands, and I got the impression that this was a very sensitive and artistic woman.

Well, her skills at gardening and composing tea certainly proved her talents. 'I'm pleased to meet you,' we said simultaneously,' both laughing at the coincidence. I added: 'Your gardens are more than just beautiful, they take my breath away.'

She clearly liked to hear that, and she said: 'I feel like I already know you, Lukas has told me about you, and what you did for him when you two first met. He is such a sweet boy, and I loved to be able to talk Greek again, he indulged me, even though his English is near perfect already.'

Sir Nomes now moved to be introduced to Lukas, and his wife did the honors: 'George, meet Lukas Hermeides, who is apprenticed to Paul as a metalworker. He has other skills as well, and he is originally from Greece, from a very different Greece than we have visited.

Lukas, this is Sir George Nomes, my husband, and father of our four children.' As they shook hands, Lukas bowed to him elegantly, and Sir Nomes also seemed to notice Lukas' noble bearing and his total assuredness around nobility.

He just asked: 'So Lukas, you seem to very used to being around people of our class, most apprentices would be quite impressed and shy, but you're just very polite, with very elegant, polished manners.'

With another bow, Lukas answered: 'You are quite right Sir, I spent my youth at my father's court, where I was taught polite manners and where I was constantly in the presence of nobility of upper and lower stature. Later, I functioned as herald for another important personage, most famous in my home-country.

It was in this capacity that I stayed over at my dad's place for a few days, and foolishly allowed myself to be taken by enemies of either him or my employer. They did not treat me well, and when I managed to flee, I got lost between worlds and ended up in Melissa's living-room.

Paul and herself have helped me build an independent life, and though I'm not quite ready to stand on my own, I have already acquired a lot of very useful skills to get by with in your reality.'

Sir Nomes was really affected by this tale, and Lukas did deliver it with dignity and a certain pride in his former life.

I couldn't wait for him to tell more, he never breathed a hint of it to us, but I suppose he needed to prove he could support himself in an alien culture first.

'I am very pleased to meet you, Lukas, and I hope we will meet often. Please know, that if you ever need sanctuary, you can come to us, where you can be yourself and will not have to hide your special features.

Feel free to use our woods and grounds to run, as the gods made you if it pleases you. I'll give your name to the gatekeeper, and you will have free admittance.

That goes for you too, Melissa, though I doubt you'd want to use the 'as the gods made you' provision.'

'Thank you Sir,' I said, and Sir Nomes said: 'Please call me George, Melissa, and you too, Lukas. Any friend of Paul's is my friend too. And Lukas said: 'Thank you so much, George, for the offer as well. It will be a pleasure not to have to hide my hoofs, though I quite like wearing clothes now. I think I will take you up on your offer soon, I've longed for a good swim, and running without shoes would be heaven.' Lady Nomes now said: 'And make sure you visit me as well, Lukas, I want to talk a lot more Greek with you, stay in practice.'

At this, Lukas looked a quite embarrassed, but he graciously assented to it: 'Of course, Milady, I certainly will be happy to visit your little corner of heaven.' This pleasantry seemed to remind Sir Nomes of another item on the agenda, and he called out: 'The greenhouse! Frances, will you do our guest the honour of showing them the greenhouse? Though I suspect you have shown Lukas here every interesting part of it already?'

Lady Nomes ignored that last remark, though I guessed it was probably true, and invited us all to come with her.

The greenhouse itself was old-fashioned, and though sound, it did not look as if it would use the heat very efficiently in winter. Of course it was steamingly hot now. I wondered if she had ever thought of asking Paul to calculate the optimal use of boiler capacity and review the piping system. But the planting was as beautiful as anything floral she layed her hands on, which reminded me of those poor trees on the wilder part of their grounds.

I decided to bring it up immediately, before something could drive it off my mind. 'Lady Nomes,' I said hesitantly, not wanting to spoil her presentation. 'Please call me Frances, dear, we're practically family,' she said, which encouraged me.

'We've been looking at wild trees on your grounds, trees that have been left by their faeries and that are now doing very badly, dying actually. You're so good with flora, couldn't you think of something to keep them alive and in reasonable condition until we've freed their faeries?'

She stopped in her tracks: 'Lukas told me about the trees, and I'll check them out tomorrow. But is it really true that the dryads are missing from our grounds?'

Paul nodded solemnly, telling her: 'We even know where they are, but I needed to know what was wrong with them before I could act. They seem possessed, but George remembered a story of dryads' souls being stolen as a source of magic, and those faeries acted the same. The trees may die before we find a way to free them.'

Now, Frances was musing: 'I have indeed missed them, but they didn't come every day anyway. Let me see, Monday, Tuesday, when did Julia have Jonas over, darling?' Sir Nomes thought, then replied: 'That was Tuesday, they took those white dress pictures in the morning, and he went out alone in the afternoon.' 'I saw dryads on Monday, but now I'd swear they tried to tell me something. But they're not very smart, you see, and they speak in riddles.' She clearly berated herself for not listening to the faeries when they came to her for help.

Lukas said in a quiet voice: 'Maybe there are some left, can you call them to you, when everything is quiet? If you take the time and ask any who turn up what has happened to the rest, you may learn something important.'

Strengthened by the prospect to be able to do something after all, Frances promised: 'If you show me the trees that are in trouble, I'll nurse them until you free the faeries, I have seldom lost a plant I really wanted to live.'

'And that is the bare truth,' her husband said, fondly. Frances continued: 'And I will come here during twilight tonight, see if a faerie wants to see me, and if one does, I'll call for you, and you can speak to it, George. Maybe you'll understand it better.'

'And if we learn anything, we'll let you know, shall I send you a messenger?' Sir Nomes asked Paul. Paul suggested, looking at Lukas questioningly: 'Maybe Lukas won't mind running over, he always runs for an hour each morning, he'd easily make it to this place, make a tour of your park without whichever part of clothing he'd like to lose, then dress again, get the message and run back.' Lukas nodded fervently: 'I'd love to do that, if you agree,' this at Sir Nomes.

'I certainly do, and I'm sure Frances would love to give you a cup of tea and some Greek conversation whilst you take a little break.' So that was decided, and then we continued our tour of the greenhouse, leaving it by the back door, looking out over an empty lot, which was weird, for one would expect it to be planted like the rest of the garden.

'And this is where it is supposed to happen,' our host now told us, 'Frances wants to have another greenhouse here, to grow our own coffee-beans of that special variety.' Against better judgement, I said: 'But coffee-beans don't grow in hothouses.'

Sir Nomes laughed, and retorted: 'That is what I said about three other things in that greenhouse over there, and Frances made them grow there just to prove me wrong. But the important thing is, I like that new glass building that they are building in your quarter, the one that looks like Crystal Palace, only prettier.

I thought, if we hire the same architect, and a contractor for the glass, would you do the iron work for us, for your usual fee of course?'

Paul and I looked at eachother and smiled: that was my building they were talking about. Still, what Paul said next surprised me a lot: 'Melissa knows that building intimately, she is the building inspector at that site.

It is her job to calculate every possible force or pressure that a building has to be able to bear to be safe, and she can see through every part of any material to check its soundness. I put it to you, that she can design a greenhouse for you, and Lukas and I can build the frame for you. You'd only need to contract the glazing, but Melissa knows every contractor in town.'

They needed to think about that, and to be honest, I did too. Designing a building was a different cup of tea from inspecting one. But I never realised Paul had remembered so much detail about my work, and his total trust in me flattered me.

He wouldn't suggest this if he didn't think I could do it. 'Think about it,' Paul said, 'I'd love to do a project from start to finish, and there is no-one I trust more than Melissa, but it's your property and money.

We'll keep in touch over the dryads anyway, won't we? We still don't know who took the souls, and how they got on your property without your alarms going off. We'd better get back home now, I don't look forward to crossing that factory site again, let alone in the dark.'

I shuddered to think of it, and though the sun would not go down for some time yet, I didn't want to cross it in daylight either. 'I had hoped to keep you for dinner,' George said, 'I can have you taken back in a carriage, no problem.'

To be honest, I longed to be home again, these were nice people, but I missed physical contact, and the constant banter that I didn't know the origins of tired me. I'd have to get used to this family in small easy steps, and I missed the privacy I had at home.

It seemed to me that Lukas wanted to go home as well, though I couldn't think why, he seemed like a fish in water amidst these nobles. Paul seemed to have his own reasons for not wanting to stay for dinner, for he made a polite excuse about being tired, and seeing more of eachother now we had a common quest.

So we took our leave, and started the long walk back. Bertha waved at us from the big house, and we soon crossed the little wood to the gate and passed through it. The transition to the real world was instantaneous, from the countyside manor to the city in the blink of an eye. As much as I liked the country, personally I preferred the city, though not the parts we'd have to traverse now. But our return trip was uneventful, and in half an hour we were back home.

I had some calculations to do, so I planned to retreat to my own appartment, and Paul suggested to Lukas they might do a little more work on an elaborate bronze bathtub due for delivery in two days. Lukas did not look happy about my leaving him, so I asked him if he needed to talk about something that happened at the estate, and he nodded vigorously.

I asked: 'Just me, or all of us?' Paul interjected: 'I think I know what happened, would you mind if I stay? I think I can set it right, partly at least.'

Lukas said: 'If you understand, please explain, I thought I understood your culture now but I'm getting more and more confused.'

Of course, I didn't understand one bit of all this talk, which irritated me after an afternoon of innuendo, so I'm afraid I commanded: 'All right, both of you, quit the innuendo and out with it. I've heard hints and allusions the whole afternoon, and I'm sick of it.

Common English please!' Though a bit over the top, it had two effects I desired, Paul took me to the couch, sat me down in the middle with him on one side, and wrapped me in his arms. Physical contact, strike one.

Lukas crashed on the other side, really close to me, and laid his curly head on my shoulder, then he started to speak: 'I went with the little girl, we checked out some trees that her sister's boyfriend had photographed because he thought they were beautiful. Some were fine, most were not. I told her we needed to tell you, but she took me to her mother instead, telling me her mom knew everything about plants.

Which is true, as I found out, but she also immediately saw me for what I am, a satyr, and that seemed to turn her on instantly.

She was married and I was with friends who were allies with her husband, but when I told her this she laughed and replied in excellent Greek, that her husband knew exactly what she was doing here. They had an arrangement, she said.

She was sweet, and quite pretty, and since she already knew what I was I let her touch my hair to look at the horn stumps. She stroked me really nicely until she found them, then fondled the stumps and their bases. It is as if she knew that'd drive me mad, for she showed me she had no underwear under her dress.

I managed to control myself, but I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there, which I'm sure stimulated her to no end. She wanted to see my hoofs as well, so she removed my shoes, amazed at their ingeniousness, I may add. Then my pants, and I must admit I still didn't move. She fondled my hoofs, my hocks, stroking my legs up to my buttocks, where she was thrilled to find my tail. She was really sweet, but I also felt a bit like a favourite horse being fondled, she stroked my mottled skin, under my shirt, removing that as well, until I was stark naked.

Of course I had a full erection by now, and she eagerly licked it, took it in her mouth slowly, temptingly. Then she got up and kissed me, caressing the base of my horns again, and then I lost it. I kissed her back like maniac, and she offered herself to me where we stood. I plunged into her, her hands still on my horns, stimulating me to greater and greater efforts. She made a lot of noise, and seemed to enjoy herself, continuing to urge me on.

I spilled my seed in her and felt, well, a bit dirty. As if I had been bad. I'm afraid your morals are rubbing off on me. She noticed I wasn't happy about it and said she was sorry, then we rearranged our clothes and sat there, and she totally made up for it, for we talked really nicely about, well everything.

She was like a mother when we were sitting there, and I have missed my mom ever since she passed away, so I felt better about being there and meeting her. I mean, it wasn't a big deal, we had sex, and she liked it.

And I really liked talking to her in my own language. And then you came and I kept a straight face, but when her husband started hinting at it, I realised he knew, he had known before it happened, even enjoyed the idea. And I felt used all over again, realising his offer to me to use his grounds for swimming and running without shoes was an invitation to do his wife.

To satisfy her lust for non-humans or for younger men, I don't know. I still like her a lot, and I would love to meet her again, and talk with her as a son, but I don't know if I'd be able to have sex with her. One doesn't do that with one's mother.'

I just couldn't believe my ears, Lukas felt used! But I did have to believe it after a while, and he looked so sad and vulnerable, as if he didn't have the right to refuse sex because of what he was, and I hugged him tightly and told him: 'You may refuse sex any time you want, and you have every right to feel used. I'm certain you've never forced yourself on anyone.'

And now Paul sat on his other side, putting an arm around him, and said: 'I must confess I knew George and Frances had a marriage of convenience. She has a taste for younger men, especially non-humans, and he prefers lovers of the same sex.

Of course that could ruin him if anyone found out, so he married an artistic, nice woman of the same class, both knowing the other's preferences and giving eachother space. It usually works really well for them, but had I known she wouldn't give you time to make up your mind I would have saved you from her.

I'm sorry Lukas, you were indeed used, though I think she realises it. If you want to, I'll speak to her so it won't happen again. I suppose you do want to see her again, seeing as they've the one place in this world where you can truly be yourself?'

This made Lukas doubt himself again: 'Of course I want to go there again, I like her. Now I find it hard to understand why I didn't just enjoy the situation and the sex. Do you think I'm really changing my morals?

Thank you for wanting to help me, Paul, I appreciate it, though I do think I need to talk to her myself. Maybe I'll even start to like her in that way, but I'd like it to be my own decision.' Now the time was ripe to tease him a little: 'You may turn into a Victorian yet, dear Lukas. Be very, very careful! Better go to a rave-party again soon.'

Ignoring my foolish bantering, Paul asked Lukas: 'With this off your chest, are you ready to put in an hour on that bathtub together? Let Melissa finish her calculations, and we can discuss the rest we learned over dinner.'


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

It was nice to immerse myself in the restful world of figuring. I always felt an inner peace come over me when I was calculating, getting the same result twice was the ultimate reality to me. I found one little mistake, but nothing serious, I would set the architect right tomorrow, and look at the building with other eyes, as if I were going to build a similar structure.

What would I improve, what would I emulate?Within half an hour the figures were correct, and the world was real again. I was ready for another dose of faeries, and I was especially ready to be with my friends again, both of them.

A good brainstorm might turn up a clue to free the faeries and save their trees. Since I wasn't any good at cooking, and both my friends were, I decided not to go to the kitchen to make a start on it, but to watch them work instead.

I felt a little buzz in my head, something had been said today which had a connection to something else, but it had eluded me so far. I could try to get the bit of information back, see what Paul and Lukas made of it. It had to do with only the beautiful trees being affected, I had scanned several patches of forest, but those trees were all fine. What was the connection?

These thoughts still occupied my mind when I descended several flights of stairs and arrived in the workshop. Paul and Lukas didn't look up when I came in, they were welding a very complicated seam, and it needed both sets of hands and their full concentration.

I wondered if this work gave them the same peace of mind my calculations gave me, I guessed it did. They were a magnificent team, each man doing his own part of the job, but always aware of the other. They did not speak much, they seemed to know exactly what to do.

After ten minutes the weld was finished, and Paul exclaimed: 'Well done, Lukas! I couldn't have finished that weld better myself. And I could not have executed it at all on my own. You're picking this up so quickly, it took me months to learn that technique.'

Pleased, Lukas asked him: 'Where did you learn the craft?' Paul answered: 'I grew up a younger son of highborn parents, so I started out with a tutor, learning to speak French, and Latin and Greek. My parents being guardians themselves, and with me the most talented of their brood, I escaped being sent to boarding school, for they wanted to teach me magic personally from an early age.

But to give me a little experience with the outside world and other children of my age, they sent me to foster with Sir Nomes and his family, where I could continue to learn magic though of a different school, and where I could practice without endangering myself and others.

I know a lot of offensive magic, and that needs to be practiced endlessly before one can be trusted to really use it. Mistakes are generally deadly.

Maybe that is what caused me to become so obsessed with being in control, and unable to show my feelings. I've been used to handle a lot of responsibility from a very young age, my parents meant well, but I never had the chance to be a child until I got to live with the Nomes'. My folks would never have let me learn a craft either, that was way beneath their dignity.

Anyway, living with the Nomes family I learned to play and I was especially close with their son Marcus, who is a few years younger than me, and with their eldest daughter Ilsa, who is the same age.

George, Sir Nomes, always hoped we'd make a match someday, but no matter how close we were, I never developed other feelings for her than brotherly love. George was disappointed, he wished me to make a marriage of convenience with her, as he had done with Frances, but I refused.

Ilsa herself did love me, and was so disappointed that she never spoke to me again, and apparently she never even tried to love someone else.

It is the reason why I seldom visit, it is awkward to sit at one table with someone I've hurt dreadfully through no fault of my own, not being able to explain or beg forgiveness. She doesn't acknowledge my presence.'

At the moment Paul related this, I saw Lukas' expression, now sure that humanity was totally crazy. Paul didn't notice, he continued: 'but I digress, you wanted to know where I learned my craft. When I was living with the Nomes', none of them practiced magic exclusively.

Sir Nomes is in trade, you've seen Frances' talent with anything floral, they nourished my love of metals and ornamentation, and got me an apprenticeship with a really reputable craftsman. I went there every day to work and learn about metals, and rode back every night to study and practice magic.

I had little time to be sad about my quarrel with Ilsa, and I usually had dinner with my master. I progressed fast, but I had to work hard for it.'

Here, Lukas, retorted: 'My parents, actually my father, would have been very pleased if I had your talent for magic. It was a great letdown for him I didn't have any, and he forced me to become a diplomat, probably to get some use out of me despite being a failure.

I did inherit his speed, a trait he was also renowned for. But I'm glad you think I'm progressing well, I like working with you, especially on projects like these. I miss looking like everyone else, not being able to show my hoofs and my horns openly, but I don't miss my job or my father and siblings at all. I like working with my hands a lot better, and you two love me for who I am, not my pedigree.

What did your father think of your career choice, Melissa?' I replied: 'He would have preferred if I had just married and gotten some grandchildren for him to spoil, but my parents supported me in my study as much as they could.

My dad's really proud of me now, though he still wants me to marry and have a bunch of grandchildren.' This piqued Paul's interest: 'Do you suppose parents from a lower class have more normal expectations of their children, or is it just coincidence?'

My reply was twofold: 'I think I was just lucky. But though I think George is a great dad, letting Bertha take as much responsibility as she can handle, ignoring Marcus' teenage rudeness, still I think he and Frances made a capital mistake in letting their eldest child put you and herself through years of pain over a disappointed love.

They should have encouraged her to get over it, maybe sent her to be fostered a few years, to allow her to find other interests. Instead they made you responsible for her happiness, maybe hoping you'd relent and marry her anyway, but instead freezing her life and driving you away, afraid to love anyone else.'

When would I ever learn to keep my big mouth shut and think for a moment? I loved Paul so much it hurt me to think of it, but now I'd done it again, I had spoken my mind before considering if what I said might give him pain.

The words hadn't left my mouth yet before I wished I could take them back. But this time, Paul didn't seem pained by them, judging his countenance I'd say he mostly felt relieved to hear my opinion. He didn't say anything, but that was more because he was formulating carefully than due to speachlessness.

I knew he'd have no problem with silences, and Lukas waited for him as well. In due time, he spoke up: 'Thank you Melissa. You've just formulated very precisely what I have felt for years, but couldn't exactly put my finger on.

That the pain I felt about the situation wasn't my own responsibility, but her parents indulging her inappropriately, at my expense. How could I force myself to love someone I just wasn't able to, not that way? I did suffer, and it damaged my ability to love another, for I was afraid to be unable to deliver in the end, again.

And I suffered for that as well, for I might have lost you because of it. It was jealousy of Lukas that finally forced me to act. Had he not been here all the time, making me love him despite my jealousy, I could have put off taking my love for you into action for years. But however much I hurt, it does not compare to what Ilsa has suffered all those years, waiting for someone she couldn't have, starving her feelings, maybe even to the death. I wish I knew if there is still hope for her.'

'Fear not, I will find out,' Lukas' voice now said, 'I have no history with the family but they know me and I think they trust me. I will visit, get myself invited to a family meal, and observe her, maybe even get to talk to her.

Then I will tell you, and you will find closure.' It was clear that Paul was seriously considering this scheme, he would never be able to approach Ilsa again, and this was a good way to find out about his sister.

I certainly felt the compliment to Lukas, that Paul would trust him with a woman he saw as his own sister, who had no experience at all with men, who had lived as a nun in her parents' house for years now.

Somehow, Lukas' view on sexuality had shifted a little towards Paul's own, and that had increased Paul's faith in him. I thought that Lukas might break Ilsa's heart still further, being so at home in their society but adhering to a totally different moral standard, and with her so secluded that she was used to no male companionship at all.

Lukas would strike her like a missile, impossible to miss her heart, inevitably disappointing her hopes of a lasting relationship, again. But she was Paul's past, and frankly I didn't care one bit about her fate, I wouldn't mind risking her heart if it would give him some more trust in his future with me. I saw him as a victim, and Ilsa as perpetrator, even though I suspected his need for control was probably a character trait, not a trauma caused by her behavior.

Now my two friends cleared up their work space and washed their hands, task finished, and as ready for some dinner as I was.

They laughed and joked on our way up, speculating on what I was planning to cook: 'It's your turn to make dinner, Melissa, we've cooked for the last week,' Lukas said. Paul retorted: 'Yes, will it be burned potatoes or overcooked vegetables today?'

Truth is, they were right, I was not a good cook, and it was a job I hated doing, so I usually got distracted from it and then something would go wrong, indeed overcooking stuff or burning it. Thinking of the first time I ever had dinner at Paul's place, I pretended to consider what to cook, then said: 'You're both right, I think I'll make noodles tonight,' and as I knew he would, Paul immediately stepped in: 'I love noodles, but maybe it's better if I make them.'

He really didn't like the idea of me spoiling perfectly good noodles, which I knew, but wouldn't let on. My goal accomplished, no cooking for me that night, and edible food into the bargain, I still pretended to be hurt, and got a few kisses to make up for it.

It wouldn't do for them to realise I'd do anything to escape my turn to cook. I made a pot of tea, whilst Lukas plundered the cellar, and Paul chopped meat and vegetables. It didn't take a lot of time to prepare, and soon we were enjoying a feast of flavor, and a nice bottle of red wine.

And then our speculations about the faeries started. 'What if a mage sneaks on to their grounds at night, stealing souls?' Lukas asked. Paul shook his head: 'That is virtually impossible, they have very strong wards on the whole park, in several different traditions, I've spent weeks there myself, weaving wards with guardian magic, and I would know if they had been passed by, even if I can't see into this mage's own territory. That is different, easier to do.'

I suggested: 'May we conclude then that the perpetrator is someone that the family knows personally and allows access? Or could it be done at a distance?' This clearly made Paul think, and he replied: 'I think we may, Melissa, that may be important.

Stealing a soul is complicated magic, the soul needs to be transferred to another person or object directly, using spell components and maybe even physical contact.' I was amazed: 'Can a soul be transferred into an object?'

Paul nodded, and said: 'Even a human soul, but the body generally doesn't go on soullessly, humans without soul tend to die within a week. It is as if our souls are attached more solidly, making them more difficult to remove and causing more damage in the process.'

So, someone in the family, or staff. Lukas apparently had the same idea: 'Could it be someone in the staff?' 'One can never be totally sure, but they generally hire folk from the same pagan tradition, and it would be very difficult to hide evil intent from accomplished mages like George and Frances,' Paul said, 'I wouldn't start with the staff, but if no other suspect turns up we might review them.'

Now I finally connected the nagging feeling I'd had all day: 'That boyfriend of the middle daughter, Jonas, he has free access and he has seen every tree that was affected. He has been out there on his own, taking photographs.'

Now Lukas interjected: 'I still have no idea what a photograph is, is it an object that could be used to put a soul in?' That struck me as a very funny thought, but to Paul it clearly wasn't. I could see an idea shaping in his mind, and he spoke in wonderment: 'Lukas, had you known what a photograph was, you would never have asked that question, for the idea is almost ridiculous. But you didn't know, and you did ask the question, and I automatically considered it, and I think you may be right: a photograph might capture a soul.

Not a human soul, that is attached too tightly to our sense of self, to what we are, but dryads are not very complex creatures, and their souls are less, well, interwoven with their personalities, one might say.' Lukas and I looked at Paul questioningly, intrigued, but not understanding.

Paul said: 'Let me explain to Lukas what a photograph is, then it will become much clearer, to you too Melissa.

A photograph is an image of something, like a painting, but the likeness is taken much more directly from the object or the person involved, for it captures the light coming off of that object or person, and the image is an exact representation of it. To take a photograph one uses a silver plate, prepared especially with a solution containing mercury, which is then inserted into the camera, a sort of light tight box, and kept in the dark.

The camera has a lense, a sort of eye, that is pointed at the object one wants a photograph of, with the lense still closed. Then the lense is opened, light falls onto the silver plate and an image forms into it. The lense is closed once more and the plate is kept in the dark until it can be fixated, stabilised with other chemical agents.

Otherwise the plate would become totally dark as soon as it was exposed to light. But the point is: the plate is silver, and there is mercury involved, both are important components in the process of transferring a soul. What if the boy took a photo of the tree without realising the dryad was even there? The soul could have been transferred to the silver plate, then fixated there, causing the poor dryad to go in search of it, probably to the place where the photograph currently resided, say, in the director's room of a factory?'

'We have to ask Jonas where he sold his photographs, would you be able to sense the presence of a soul in it?' I asked Paul. 'I would, but you could probably do it better, say without touching it,' was his answer. 'Back to the estate then, to talk to Jonas. Knowing this may also make it easier to talk to any remaining dryads,' Lukas observed.

At this, Paul looked expectantly at Lukas, and asked: 'Would you mind going by yourself, tonight? You can be there and back in an hour, and it is much safer for you, for I suppose you can keep yourself practically invisible in the dark?' Somehow, I got the idea that Lukas was hoping Paul would ask, did he have an agenda of his own?

Lukas replied: 'No problem, it will be just like the old days, when running messages was my share of the chores. I loved it, the exertion of running, the contact with all kinds of people. Just tell me again what you want them to know, and what you want me to find out, and I'll be off right after dinner. I'll drink coffee there, they have the best I've ever had.'

We finished our dinner with the satisfied feeling of being one step further in our investigation. Then Lukas clamped on his shoes, hugged us both, and went up the stairs, saying: 'I may be away for quite some time, Jonas may not be in yet. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself.'

Why did that remark not put me at ease, but rather alarm me?

It seemed as if he was going to do something dangerous, not just take a message to friends living a ten minute run away from home.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Paul's comment echoed my thoughts: 'What do you suppose that was about? Is running to Sir Nomes that dangerous?' I replied: 'I think he may be planning something else, I hope it isn't something really foolish, and that he'll be careful.'

Soothingly, Paul told me: 'Don't worry too much. Working together I've shared a lot of guys-talk with him, and he is not nearly as impetuous as he seems sometimes. He generally thinks things through really carefully, I think he's had a very solid education and quite a high profile job.

It appears as if he is impulsive because his views on love are so different from ours, his people all share love freely whenever and wherever they feel like it, with whomever they want. We don't, so that seems impulsive to us, but to him it's normal.'

He put down his teatowel and embraced me, and I put down the plate I was cleaning and returned the embrace with passion flaring up quickly. We kissed very intensely, and then he looked at me, head tilted, and asked: 'May I try something?' Of course I could only say yes, he was so sweet and so appealing, and still in his arms with him nuzzling my neck, I felt a tentative touch on my mind. As I got over the surprise and welcomed it, the fluttering touch bloomed into the powerful, familiar presence that connected so closely with me this afternoon, but without the clear goal of transferring energy.

This time, it was just breathtakingly intimate, I could feel my own passion, but it was enhanced by a layer of deep-seated love, now stirring towards heated passion. I slowly realised that this was Paul's love for me, it was nearly frightening in its intensity, so much feeling.

He had no problems showing his feelings this way, I hoped he was getting the same overwhelming sense of love from me. Strangely, I did not feel the need to rip the clothes off his body and make love frantically, somehow that could wait for a moment, first we stood entangled, kissing, exploring our feelings for the other.

But our passion, rising steadily, took over in the end, and we helped one another out of our clothes, and made love on the sofa, slowly, taking time to feel everything twice, relishing every feeling first from ourselves, then from the other. It was a stunning experience, and when we were both sated we really needed some time to get back into the now, so the dishes waited a little longer and the kitchen stayed messy whilst we let go of the other's mind reluctantly and looked at one another in amazement. What just happened?

But in the end, we got used to being alone in our mind again, and finished the dishes with new hot water. Everything cleaned up, we sat on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book on offensive magic, Paul judged it was time I learned to defend myself with and against magic.

It was very interesting, frightening too, but I wouldn't have to practice alone for a long time yet, and I'd start small anyway, nothing really dangerous. I got to raise a really small fireball straight away, right there in the living-room, for Paul shaped a shield around the two of us to protect the furniture. It wasn't even hard to do, just shape an image of a fireball, not forgetting to make it really hot and keep my hands at a normal temperature, then channel power towards it and will it to be.

And it was there, I could feel the heat scorch the tiny hairs on my arms, and the power draining out of me. As usual with anything new, it took a lot of energy, and after two tries I was spent.

Paul wanted me to try once more, but using his magical energy this time.

'Try gathering power from around you instead of letting it come from yourself. I'm the closest source of magical power, and I'll let you take it, not feed it to you like this afternoon.

Being able to do that may save your life in dire need, but if you take it without permission or emergency, I'll slap your mental fingers, for you need to learn to use your own power to its limits, not get used to borrowing it.'

Nodding in acquiescence, I shaped the now familiar image, heated it and gathered energy from outside my own being. And found Paul's, connecting to his mind quite naturally and easily, noting the intensely erotic feel was much less, probably because we'd totally exhausted it, some part of me observed dryly.

The fireball was already there, growing and growing with Paul's nearly unlimited power, and, mesmerised by its rapidly expanding beauty, I stared at it in fascination, not even contemplating checking its size. When it stopped growing by itself, I was vaguely disappointed at first, then I realised it was still dangerously large for someone of my skills to hold inside a house, but it was already diminishing in size before I could feel fear.

Now I also felt Paul's subtle mental touch, and knowing he had taken it under control for a moment, I felt relieved and at the same time, deadly tired. Back in control now, I let the fireball dissipate further, and when it was gone I allowed myself to sink against Paul and felt my eyes fall shut.

I woke up with a headache when I was lifted up and carried up the stairs. Paul laid me on the bed lovingly, stroking my hair and kissing me tenderly. He whispered softly: 'I'm sorry love, somehow I seem unable to be reasonable in my expectations, I keep overtaxing you. Please believe me when I say I'm not trying to kill you. Are you comfortable?'

I said: 'Headache.' He looked really pained, and promised: 'I'll get you a painkiller first, and then I'll help you undress. Again love, I'm sorry I let this happen, but I'm proud of you that you got control back and didn't faint until it was safely gone.'

He kissed me again and left me for a moment, then came back with a powder and a glass of water, and he helped me up and handed me the powder and after that the glass. Then he held me against his chest for a while, and his warm presence and familiar smell relieved part of the pain until the medicin took it away completely.

I then vaguely felt my dress being removed and the blanket pulled over me, and I thought I heard a voice say: 'I'll wait up for Lukas, I'll be downstairs. Love you.' Then I fell asleep.

When I woke at first light because I had to use the privy, I found them asleep, each on one side of me, so I never knew what had happened that night until much later that day when I returned home from work.

I was surprised to find Lukas still asleep, for he was usually up with the sun, but both men were looking quite well, just fast asleep, breathing quietly. Very careful not to wake anyone up, I moved down to the foot end of the bed until I could get out without disturbing the sleepers. I took my blue dress upstairs, found I was still wearing the necklace with the little horses, and decided to wear it to work today.

Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, I went upstairs to my own apartment and showered and dressed in one of my work suits. My hair was pinned tight in a moment, and I decided to take a good breakfast, I was ravening, probably because of the magic use.

As we usually ate in Paul's place now, I didn't have much food in my own place anymore, so I went back down, made a pot of coffee and ate heartily, feeling much better after a good night's sleep, a cup of strong coffee and with food inside me. I left a note for the men, just to let Paul know I was fine.

Soon I was on my way to work, and when I arrived I immediately checked the copper connection pieces for the piping. All were fine, so I went to the cabin, hoping to find the architect there. He was there indeed, and we went over the calculations together.

He looked at me intently, then observed: 'Do you know that the horses on your necklace really seem to move?' He had never remarked on anything in my appearance before, so this was quite a surprise, and I felt the compliment for Paul's artistry.

I replied: 'I've noticed, yes. Isn't that amazing?' The man nodded in assent, and said: 'Whoever made that must be an artist of some renown, though I wonder why he or she would spend so much effort on copper instead of gold or silver.

It deserves better, though the colour matches your hair perfectly.' That made me smile, and I said: 'That is exactly what the artist said, that the colour matched my hair.' The man was amazed: 'You know the artist personally?'

Now I laughed, and said: 'He's my landlord, and he is an inventor who makes state of the art boilers and steam engines out of copper, bronze and even cold hard iron. This is an experiment of his, part of a small series of jewelry he made in his spare time.'

'Aha, that explains the copper, it is the material he's used to and well-suited to an experiment outside of one's specialty. Will you tell him for me that it is worth making it in silver or gold as well? It is exquisitely made, and I'm convinced it would sell quite well, even to rich spoiled ladies who are used to the best.' I thanked him in Paul's name and promised to deliver his compliments where they were due.

Then I took my tour of the building, realising its completion was imminent and my time here was nearly up. I was certain to get another project from the council, but I was also starting to wonder if I should try to move up a notch, learn how to design buildings myself.

Whilst on my round I met the main contractor, the one responsible for the frame, and his behavior mirrored the architect's. He took a good look at me and asked: 'Did you notice that the horses of your necklace really seem to move?'

I nodded, and replied: 'I did, isn't it a marvel?' He looked at it intently and observed: 'Excellent craftsmanship, and very artistic, but copper. Not made by your companion yesterday, but by his master I'd guess.

Only a craftsmaster would dedicate so much work to a humble material like copper. Though it matches the colour of your hair perfectly, glorious. Is he fed up with crafting boilers?' I was stunned by this man's deductive qualities, and felt my respect for him rise a few notches, and said: 'You're spot on sir, it was indeed made by the craftsmaster, and he did want me to wear it because it matched my hair so perfectly.

But he's not fed up with boilers and steam engines, he loves them, this was just an experiment that turned out really well.' 'Well, please tell him for me that he has surpassed the level of crafting and has moved into artistry, and to keep experimenting, and respecting the humbler metals. I bet you learned your affinity with metals from him.'

Again, his remarks struck a chord with me, copper was good enough for this man, which impressed me, and I promised to pass his compliments on to the craftsmaster. He asked for Paul's shop and address, to view the quality of his 'real' work, he did often install boilers after all, and of course I gave it to him, Paul had enough projects in his workshop to give this man an impression of what he could do.

With Lukas improving in skill daily they would be able to produce more objects, so more demand would be a good thing.

I was amazed by what wearing a necklace did for my contact with the men who were in a way my colleagues. I continued my inspection, and collected more compliments on the lifelike horses of the necklace, and on the glorious colour of my hair.

Which had been there from the start, but who knows how men work. When the work was done for the day, I returned home eagerly, hoping to hear how Lukas had fared yesterday, and anticipating Paul's reaction to the many compliments I had for him. When I came in, I heard the familiar noise of the furnace, and I went into the workshop, to find only Paul there.

Though I had seen him in bed sleeping but in excellent health, I still got a shock that Lukas wasn't there. Paul came towards me, arms wide to embrace me, face just incredibly happy to see me well. Once in his arms, I asked: 'Where's Lukas, he seemed fine this morning?'

Paul gave me a comforting squeeze, and said: 'Lukas's fine, but still asleep. He had a very profound experience yesterday, and it took a lot out of him. I took him to bed yesterday night, same as you, nearly fainted and with a raging headache.'

Apparently I looked like a stunned ox, for he said: 'Come, I'll take you to him, and you can check for yourself, and I'll get you some tea and tell you what happened, as I heard it from George. George brought him home in a carriage, for he wouldn't have made it on his own hoofs but he insisted on going home, so as not to frighten us.

Melissa, he was so sweet, he excused himself for being so late, then fainted in my arms, woke up with a reaction headache as I carried him to our bed, and totally surrendered himself to me, letting me undress him, feed him a painkiller, stroke him until it worked, held him until he fell asleep. Who'd ever thought I could one day learn to love a guy so much.

I was captivated by his evident affection for Lukas, but I still asked: 'What is a reaction headache?' He replied: 'When you overextend your magical energy, it feeds from your life-force. That causes physical hurt, starting with a headache in several gradations, to loss of consciousness, and ultimately leading to death.' That was new to me, that a mage could die of using too much magical energy.

By now, we'd arrived in the bedroom, and I saw my loving goat-man, lying bonelessly across the huge bed, fast asleep. My heart filled up with love for him, and I wanted to be with him, hold him. Paul noticed and said: 'Just do it, hold him, cuddle him.

He has slept quite enough by now, if he wakes up it's time for him to eat something and take some medicin anyway. I'll get you some tea and then I'll tell you what happened as far as George knew.' He left and I crawled on the bed, sat against the wall, and I picked up my sleeping lover and held him in my arms.

Lukas clasped me with his arms, nuzzled my neck and cleavage, quieted again. Then he opened his eyes and breathed: 'Melissa, you're beautiful.' I kissed him, and he lay back in my arms and enjoyed my attentions. I stroked his hair, and if he could have purred, he would have. 'I'm glad I came back,' he said softly, a bit more awake, fondling my breasts under my blouse, 'did Paul tell you what happened?'

I replied: 'Not yet, no, he's fetching tea, he was going to tell me what he knew as soon as he got back. But if you're awake, you can tell us both exactly what happened.'

Lukas said: 'I'll tell you what George probably told Paul: my magical talent awoke suddenly, and with such force it completely overwhelmed me.'

The remembrance silenced him again, and I kissed him and caressed his bare chest, enjoying the softness of his mottled skin, and the firm muscles underneath it. Physical labor was already shaping his body, the firmness of muscles covering up the ribs that used to stick out so much.

'You feel great, muscled,' I commented. He smiled delightedly: 'I do feel strong. Well, not now but generally. Wielding a hammer, shaping the metal.

And now I'll have magic to learn as well.' This he said tiredly, but delightedly. We continued caressing eachother's bodies lazily, without any real thought of making love, just comfortably. This was different than usual, usually he needed physical love to recuperate his body, but he didn't feel heated, just quietly content.

We heard Paul on the stairs, and soon he came in, carrying a tray with a pot of tea and three cups, as well as some rich treats. I felt my mouth water at the sight of them, clearly still hankering for calories.

Spotting us, Paul called out: 'Lukas, you're awake! No headache?' Lukas now sat up straighter, also eyeing the food, and said: 'I feel fine, tired though.' As Paul poured the tea, I could smell Frances' invigorating mixture, and Paul said: 'This will give you some of your energy back,' as he handed Lukas a cup of tea and a large chunk of sticky chocolate cake.

I got my share too, then he poured himself a cup and sat down on the bed on Lukas' other side, his own chunk of cake in the other hand. I decided not to worry about the pristeen white bedclothes if Paul wasn't going to, and he seemed intent on hearing Lukas's story, proving my thoughts by asking: 'Are you up to telling us what happened yesterday evening? I'm dying with curiosity.'

The tea seemed to have the same effect on Lukas as it did on me the day before, for the weariness left his face, the cake disappeared quickly and rather neatly, and his expression became expectant, he was clearly looking forward to this. We drank our tea and ate our cake, then snuggled really close to him, ready to be amazed.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

'As you know, I expected to arrive at the Nomes' in time for coffee, and I set a nice pace not to tempt potential robbers, soon running alongside the industrial area. When I got to the factory, a shift was just changing and the gates were open, there were people and children everywhere, and I couldn't resist the temptation to take a look inside.

So I made myself inconspicuous, merging with the crowd, and went in with the mass of workers. They were chatting about children, relationships, sports, just normal people. I followed them into a large hall, filled with machines, each taking his own spot, starting work straight away.

The children were a sad sight, working instead of playing, dangerous jobs too, their little hands in big machines to fish out an obstruction, nimble and unafraid, but so risky.

I went on to the offices, nobody saw me, they seemed very susceptible to the suggestion of my natural magic. It suggests to anyone present that I'm not there, or someone they know and trust, and they either believe it or don't.

These workers all did, and I didn't even have to walk in the shadows or hide behind machines.

The office building was another matter, of course, I knew there must be someone with active magic, so I became more careful. I checked each office for images of trees, and used my sight to check for magic users, but found neither one.

Until I got to one really big office, where on one wall there were three pictures of solitary trees on silver plates, and I recognized two of the trees, the old oak, those birches with moss hanging from the branches. I could feel a bit of magic in them, but my sight works better with people than with metals.

And then the door opened and I thought I was caught, for a magic user would never believe my magic. I was thinking of excuses and looking for a spot to hide, when an important looking man walked straight past me.

I could see not even a small sign of magic in him with sight. Looking around the room, I saw that he did have an altar, so that did suggest he used magic, but not his own. I hid in a corner, wanting proof that he was the owner of the plant, and I soon got it when he had a conference with one of his underlings about a shipment of wool. I decided I had seen all I could learn, and walked right out when the gate opened for a delivery.

I ran to the Nomes', and they apparently dine pretty late, for I was in time for coffee. I told them about the photographs, and the souls caught in them, and George promised me they'd find Jonas and test one of his photographs, then if they really did contain souls they'd find out where he had sold them or where he stored them, and destroy them all, keeping track of the dryads freed and the ones still caught.

Frances was going to call the faeries at dusk, so she left. I was sitting there with Marcus, Julia, George and Ilsa, and we were having a really good time. Bertha was in bed of course. It was really nice to be with smart young people who knew exactly what I was and didn't care.

From the start, Ilsa was more than commonly interested in me, when we shook hands she held my hand a shade too long, she asked a lot of personal questions, also about Melissa, which I answered generally.

She never mentioned you, Paul, but whenever your name was spoken I could feel the hurt inside her, I really felt it as if it was my own. I've always been emphatic with the feelings of others, but I've never experienced another's feelings like that. I decided to try to help her if at all possible.

Sir Nomes didn't seem to mind her interest in me at all and at a certain point he even left us to check on his wife's success. With their father gone out of the house, the conversation got a little rowdier, and Julia asked me if I was seeing someone.

I tried to explain that my people don't date as exclusively as yours, that we love whomever we want to, as long as it's mutual, and they all found that fascinating. 'So you have sex with whomever you like?' Marcus asked. I replied honestly: 'Yes, as long as they want it too.'

'But what if they're married?' That was Julia, very much in love with her Jonas, unwilling to believe someone might want to make love outside a marriage. I replied: 'We marry mainly for family connections, or when we want to raise children, but even within a marriage our love is not exclusive.'

'And men, are you allowed to make love to your own sex?' Marcus again. My reply was the same: 'If both parties involved want to, sure.' Now Marcus wanted to know everything: 'And have you, had sex with a man?' My reply was simple: 'Sure, men can be very good lovers.'

'Have you had sex with Paul?' Ilsa asked out of the blue. Despite my own astonishment, I could see her siblings' reaction very well. They were of course shocked by the rudeness of the question, but probably as much by her mentioning your name.

Feeling her pain flare up at the thought, but also seeing an entrance to address it, I decided to answer her question with blunt honesty, mirroring her own rudeness: 'I have never made love to Paul, though I love him dearly and would very much like to express that physically.

Unfortunately he doesn't return my feelings as far as that, so I enjoy such love as he is willing to give me, and give him as much as he is able to receive from me.'

Again, I felt her pain and her guilt as clearly as if they were my own. She didn't cry, but rather spoke, haltingly: 'I should have accepted the love he was willing to give me, for he did love me very much.

But I spurned brotherly love, I wanted another kind of love, and when he told me he didn't have those feelings for me, I wanted to hurt him. And I did, very much so, but I hurt myself much, much more.'

I felt compelled to comfort her, and looked at her brother if that would be appropriate, and he nodded and said: 'Go ahead, mom and dad won't mind. She's never opened up to anyone before.'

So I sat down next to her and held her in my arms, and she finally let her tears fall, years of them. It was easy for me to follow the intensity of her feelings, first she was racked with grief and guilt, but slowly I felt the knot inside her relax a little, and when it was loose enough, I told her: 'Despite what you did to him, Paul still loves you like a brother, and he wants you to be happy again.'

Of course this caused the hurt to flare up, but that was inevitable, she'd never heal without facing that hurt again and again.

At this moment, George came back, and seeing his daughter in my arms, crying, he stopped in his tracks, and took a good look at the situation.

Despite my people's different approach to love, I have been threatened and chased by angry fathers often enough, sometimes rightfully, that I did feel a flicker of unease at his appearance. But he didn't seem to get angry, at first he looked as stunned as his middle children at witnessing the eldest opening up to a strange man.

Then he got that blank look of someone using sight, and he spoke almost formally: 'Something is happening to the both of you. I suspect it may be profound. Please do what you can for her, Lukas, do whatever is needed. Ilsa's plight is the worst mistake Frances and I have made, and two of my children, for I love Paul like a son, have been suffering for too long.'

Ilsa showed no reaction at all to her father's words, but I did feel one from her, a relief at being able to share responsibility, at least for the harm she caused Paul. She was only twenty after all. George soon left us, and so did the other two.

I asked her: 'Do you want to go sit somewhere more comfortable?' Her reply was an anxious: 'Will you come with me then, stay with me for a while?' As her father had more or less given me permission to be alone with her, I really wanted to see if I could help her face her feelings of loss and guilt.

I picked her up, and asked her to give directions, which she readily did, ending up in a nice apartment that seemed to be hers. I sat her down on the bed, and sat next to her, still holding her in my arms.

She said: 'Tell me about Paul, how is he? I haven't seen him for so long.' I told her about you: 'He has a house of his own, with a workshop in the basement, an apartment that he leases out on top, and his own living space in the middle. His living space is amazing, he has handcrafted everything in it out of cast iron, bronze and copper, and even wood. In his workshop he makes beautiful things, and useful as well.

He still practices magic, but it doesn't define him, his craft does. When I first met him he was very controlling, and starved of love, afraid of it even. He was madly in love with Melissa, his house-mate, had told her he returned her love for him, but he couldn't show it. He just looked at her with longing, treated her with distinction, but never showed her the slightest sign of his intense feeling for her.

She was very patient with him, drawing him out bit by bit, hoping she'd get him in the end. It took a long time but they did reach an understanding, and they are now incredibly close and deliriously happy.'

Of course it made her sad to hear this, but it gave her a certain peace as wel. Now I wanted her story, so I asked: 'And what is your story? It would give Paul great relief to hear you are doing well.'

At this, all her grief came rushing back, and she clung to me: 'I grew up with him, fell in love with him when I was still a child, we played together, and I always assumed we would marry. I never asked him, never even doubted. And when he finally found out I thought that way and confessed he didn't love me that way, I was crushed. But my parents tried to convince him to marry me anyway, like they had, get married for appearances' sake and let love come later.

He said he could never feel other love for me than brotherly love. I knew that was final, and I let myself go totally. Have for years now, my life is ruined, I'll never love that way again.'

She was still so young. I said: 'Of course you'll never love that way again, love is never the same, but if you allow yourself you'll love differently, many times.' I could see her head was stuffed full of romantic nonsense, what these Victorians do to themselves and their children is just incredible, but her feeling was now surprised rather than sad, and I wanted to keep it that way. I looked her in the eye and said: 'There are many kinds of love, and you will taste plenty of them in the years to come.'

I stroked her hair, told her: 'You're beautiful, you should go out more, have some fun, you'll find plenty of love.' That one touch electrified the poor love-starved girl, and she asked: 'Would you do that again? I've never been touched by a man before.'

Stroking her hair, and her cheek, I felt her quiver. She wanted me to kiss her, and I did. It was just a kiss, but somehow it felt like I'd been hit by that apparatus of yours, with the disks. That was my own reaction but I felt hers as well, and it was like a lightning strike, straight into my brain.

It took some time for both of us to recover from that, and she asked if it was always like that to kiss someone. I admitted: 'It's always different, but I've never felt anything like this before.' She kissed me again, and I answered her kiss, passion starting to rise.

I had felt her emotions ride a roller-coaster that night, the guilt, the intense grief, the realisation that you were definitively out of reach, had found love. And now she wanted to feel some love, something positive. I don't know if that mind-contact was mutual, that she might have picked up my heat rising, or maybe it was her poor love-starved body demanding satisfaction, but she started to get positively forward now.

She fondled my hair, women always find my curls irresistable, and then she came across my horns. Shocked, she looked at me, I suppose she'd heard of my difference, but feeling it was a different matter. I encouraged her to touch them: 'Go ahead, you can touch them. I like to have my horns touched, it turns me on,' I said.

She touched them again, felt the metal, and wanted to see the caps. I lay down on the bed and laid my head in her lap, and she pushed my curls back and studied the caps: 'Silver, beautifully ornamented. Did Paul make these?'

I nodded: 'I would have died without them, he helped me saw off my horns, but it went wrong and I nearly bled to death. Those caps stopped the bleeding.'

She touched them, then the rest of the horns, scratching their bases gently, and now it was my turn to shiver as I laid at the mercy of her hands.

She must have felt that, for she wanted to kiss again, and she touched my stumps with a fire within her rising. I knew she was untouched, and the link our minds seemed to have formed worried me a little, what if her passion was just my own, reflected in her?

But she didn't seem as vulnerable anymore, she felt my insecurity and it turned her on. She unbuttoned my shirt and touched my chest with fearless hands. I felt the wonderment of touching someone with lust the first time, and it combined with my own enjoyment of her touch.

I pulled the laces of her dress, and touched her breasts tenderly, the first time they had ever been touched by someone other than herself.

We kissed again, touching eachother's bodies, feelings mingling, it was heady, and I was about to lose myself in the feeling of oneness, when I remembered she had been struck with grief, and crying her heart out only minutes before now.

I stopped, looked at her and said: 'Are you sure you want to do this? You know I cannot promise anyone my exclusive love, I must share it always. It is in no way helpful to you if you substitute one hopeless love for another.'

She kissed me, and said: 'I really, really want this. I have been lost in love for way too long, but I need to come to terms with that before I love someone else. Now I just want to share love as your people do it, wherever, whenever and with whomever it pleases me.

And the first time, I want it to be you, for something in you calls out to me, wants to become one with me.'


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Paul unlocked the shed with a key, and managed to open the door a few inches. He went inside, then came back with a machete, with which he removed some of the brambles, allowing the door to be opened more easily.

The machete was replaced in the shed, messiness with tools of course was not acceptable, and he asked me to follow him in. I did, and inside was a very strange contraption. It had four wheels, connected by iron bars, with two narrow leather seats.

He took hold of another iron bar, and it appeared to be made for just that purpose for it had handles. And then he pulled the thing in two! He moved one half, one wheel in front, one in the back, seat op top, handles in front, and rolled it out of the shed. He handed me the handles, and fetched the other contraption.

Then he led me to the alley, unlocked the door and went straight to the road. As we walked, I studied the object in my hands. It was made of steel, but in true Paul fashion the connecting pipes were ornamented with copper.

The handles had leather grips, making them more comfortable to hold, and the iron handle bar was not straight, but elegantly curved, making it easy to hold. Turning the bar turned the wheel, taking a turn.

I could envision the use of the thing, but with only two wheels it would fall down, wouldn't it? By now we had reached the road, and Paul told me: 'Better watch me first. It is not difficult, but if you stand still you need to put a foot on the ground or you'll fall over.'

He threw one of his legs over the seat, the saddle, he called it. Then he gripped both the handles, sat on the saddle, with one of his feet on a metal step, attached to a large cog. It had a chain running to the hindmost wheel, and when he pushed his foot on the step, he called it a pedal, the thing moved forward.

As soon as he was in motion, he put his other foot on the mirroring pedal on the other side, and started to peddle. The thing moved forward, and at an impressive speed. He quickly peddled to the end of the street, turned the bike, and when he neared me he pushed the pedal backwards and the thing came to a halt.

Now I saw what he meant by putting a foot on the ground, for as the thing stopped, it toppled of course, but he quickly put his foot on the street and stopped the downward movement. Proudly he announced: 'Melissa, may I present to you: a bicycle.'

I was amazed, and wanted to try myself. So Paul helped me get my leg not over the saddle, 'that's how a man is supposed to do it' but in front of it. I sat on the saddle, quite comfortably I noticed, two hands on the handles, one foot on a pedal. I pushed it, the bycicle moved, and I tried to put my foot on the other pedal but missed.

Clearly Paul had expected this, for he had held on to me and caught me before I fell. I tried again, and this time it worked, I moved!

Ahead was easy, it went quite fast. I tried the brake about halfway, and it worked, I went slower but didn't fall. Now I had reached the end of the street and tried to turn, fortunately the street was quite broad, and I managed to turn the thing without falling. Back I went nice and fast, but then I saw Paul standing in front of the house already and I had to brake until I stopped.

I used the one pedal to brake, and tried to set my foot on the ground but that was not easy. I nearly fell, but Paul caught me, and I managed on the second try. I wanted to go again, and this time it went fabulously, the corner went better, and I tried making corners on the long stretch, which made it easier quickly. This was fun!

Now, Paul took his own bicycle, and we decided to go for a tiny tour, with as few corners and traffic as could be managed. There was not much traffic in our neighborhood, and the roads were reasonable, of course they would be in summer. So I managed pretty well, and soon we were riding pretty fast.

This was a great improvement on walking, as long as the roads were smooth, it would get me to work in an instant. Though some follks would find it indecent, I couldn't care less. I didn't like horses, and this was a way to move fast without trusting one's life to such a big, strong animal.

I did soon tire from the unfamiliar movement, so we soon turned and went back. We didn't talk much, I wanted to concentrate on the road and on traffic, but I think Paul could see me enjoy myself.

Soon we were back in front of the house, and I managed to stop and put my foot on the ground elegantly. I got off as well, and together we pushed the bicycles back into the shed, locked both doors behind us, and went in through the workshop.

I was flushed by the exercise and the excitement, and Paul said: 'I suppose you had a good time, you look like you did.' I replied: 'It was fabulous! Remember, I'm a city girl, I've never learned to ride a horse, and this goes pretty fast without having to trust such a large beast.

I would never have thought that possible, I can see you made them yourself, but where did you get the idea? ' He really liked to see me this enthousiastic, I could tell, and he said: 'I saw it demonstrated once, and I memorised how it was made, and decided to build one. Don't know why I built the second one, perhaps because it is more fun to do it together.'

Was there something he couldn't make with his hands? Suddenly I remembered the necklace, and I told him: 'I have another set of compliments for you, let's sit down a few moments and I'll tell you.' There was only one chair in the workshop, and he took it and offered me his lap.

So I sat on his knees as I sat on the bike, very indecently, and I before I told him anything I first put my hands in his hair and kissed him lovingly. I think that turned him on, for he got really flushed suddenly, which was what I intended of course.

Then I started the story of the little horses on my work site, with my hands on his bare chest beneath his shirt, and my legs spread over his crotch.

I told him: 'I decided to wear your necklace to work this morning, and every man I met asked me if

I knew those horses really seemed to move. Then they told me the copper colour matched my hair perfectly, and that silver or gold would not be too precious to use for such excellent artistry.

Only the contractor of the frame thought that making it out of copper was a good investment of your craftsmanship, the rest clearly thought it a waste of your effort, and he was the only one to know straight away the maker was a craftsmaster rather than a famous artist.

He is coming over to check out your 'serious' work, it might get you a few commissions. With Lukas here, you can get a lot more work done. Are you planning to make more jewelery? Everyone thought you should.'

Paul was clearly tickled by these compliments, but my ministrations were also distracting him a lot. He kissed me, and let his hands disappear under my blouse, stroking my breasts softly. He said: 'And these were the same men you work with every day?' 'Yes, imagine them suddenly giving me compliments, just because of your necklace, ' I said.

'If they had any idea what you really look like, they wouldn't have been able to work at all with you on the site, ' he said. I laughed and agreed: 'I know, that is why I hide myself so well. At least you loved me for my mind first, and discovered my body only later.'

He wrapped me in his arms, held me tightly, and feelingly said: 'When I saw how beautiful you really are, I wanted to run and hide. How could a goddess ever love an ordinary guy like me?' I retorted: 'Yes, such an ordinary guy, makes jewelry that people mistake for priceless art, builds bicycles from memory, and has enough magical power to light a city.'

He ignored my teasing and asked huskily: 'May I take you to my bedroom and let the goddess out?' I replied, hopefully just as huskily: 'I thought you'd never ask.'

We practically ran up the stairs and stormed into the bedroom, but when we were there he stopped in his tracks and held me close. Then he stroked my hair and slowly started removing pin after pin until it revealed itself in all its copper coloured splendor.

Now he wanted to brush it, and as I did have a brush in his bedroom, he caressed my head and hair with it until my scalp tingled and my hair outshone newly minted copper. Then he ran his hands through it, kissing me with increasing fervour, until he slowed down again and started on my blouse.

I buttoned his down as he did mine, and as one, we opened the other's blouse and touched what lay hid inside. I felt him shiver with passion, and felt truly awed that this talented man, with so many gifts and such incredible power, would think of me as a goddess. I pressed myself against him, wanting to smell him, to taste him.

He was behind one article of clothing, for I wore one of those fashionable corsets that didn't choke a girl into a shape she didn't have, but only held her bosom together in a cleavage worth dying for. As I bent over his chest, he released the little hooks holding it together, and it fluttered to the ground, releasing my heavy breasts against his chest.

His hands found them as he slowly stroked my whole upper body, and he gave them the attention they wanted. We kissed again, and started on skirts and pants, buttons loosened I started with his pants, and soon they revealed an erect penis, ready for some action. I took it in my mouth as far as I could, and felt him quiver, and whilst I removed his pants further, I kept slowly moving my mouth over it, each movement causing another shudder in him.

Soon, it was too much for him, and he started on my skirts, the same downward movement, with him sinking to his knees, baring my buttocks, my legs, and of course that patch of hair covering my most intimate part.

He removed the skirt first, then stopped on his way up to fondle the hairs, copper as well, to feel the soft flesh beneath, to open it a little and take a little taste, a few licks, a little suction. Now it was my turn to shiver in anticipation.

Standing again, he took his time to admire his goddess, my wealth of curves, my cream coloured skin, the little freckles here and there. He touched it all with his hands, with his mouth, and then he lifted me up and sat on the bed, placing me on his lap as I had sat in his workshop, but without the clothes separating us, straight on his erect penis.

I felt it slide in me in one smooth move, I didn't even wonder how he managed that, for my nerves thrilled right through me, causing me to cry out in surprised pleasure. I rested my knees on the edge of the bed, so he could thrust himself in me without having to move my entire body, and I moved along with him in a continuing wave of rising feelings. I was so stimulated that I soon had a high, which made his movement even better, riding that high down and up again.

Now he became positively energetic, moving on to the bed entirely and turning both of us around until he was on top of me. All the tenderness was gone now, overcome by his primeval lust, and he rode me firmly, sending shocks of pure bliss through me.

He lasted pretty long, I suppose that all-consuming mind merge had given him some exercise in dealing with extreme lust, and his furious efforts had their effect on me, for the bliss rose to an ever higher point until it could go no further, and a violent release followed. This stimulated him immensely, and his climax followed immediately.

Now he collapsed on me for the first time ever, and I relished his weight on me, I could hear him breathe hard for the first time ever after making love. Asking him to stay on top of me for a while by locking him in a tight embrace, I thoroughly enjoyed his sweaty torso, his heavy breathing, and his enticing smell.

To be honest, I could have gone another round, but then I hadn't done the primeval work. And being close was also very satisfying, so after he got off me, we snuggled up to eachother and crept under the blankets until we heard Lukas come in. Then we shared a last kiss and dressed again, I put on an easy house-dress, and took my work clothes upstairs.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

I put my good clothes away neatly, then went downstairs. My stomach reminded me we had skipped lunch, and I guessed Paul must be hungry too. Lukas might have lunched with the Nomes'. I heard no sounds from the workshop, so I went into the house, and found the guys around the table, set for lunch with fresh bread that Lukas had picked up, and several kinds of cheese and salads.

Coffee was on its way, I could smell that, and they were waiting for me, so I quickly washed my hands and sat down at the laden table.

We had a feast, Lukas had indeed lunched with the Nomes', but with his active life-style he could eat lunch twice. 'Did you enjoy yourself in the park?' I asked Lukas. He practically glowed, and replied: 'I ran over and left my shoes and clothes under a solitary tree, then ran all around the park at top speed, until I was totally out of breath.

Then I jumped in the nearest lake and swam across it a few times, let myself dry in the sun, ran to fetch my clothes, and surprised George and Ilsa and the rest.

We did want to know about Jonas and the photographs after all, and whether the faeries had anything to tell Frances.'

Paul and I looked at eachother in shock, we had totally forgotten about those poor faries! Lukas noticed, and observed: 'I didn't forget about the faeries.

At first, George and Frances were stunned I was up and about, but when I explained, Frances merely nodded and George leered at me knowingly. He's very good looking and very nice, and he loves like me, I think I may put him through his paces soon, see if he's still got it. Would that be very bad, after his wife and his daughter?'

His guileless look was absolutely ravishing, I said: 'Just look at him like that, and he'll abduct you to his favourite trysting place. Then the responsibility will be his, not yours.'

I knew the boys would stare at me for saying that, but somehow I had accepted things how they were, and George was a very attractive man with a really large heart. If anyone deserved his share of Lukas' love it must be him, and it was a lot safer than dallying with young boys or girls from the rave-scene, who'd think the devil was finally come for them if they ever found his horns or hoofs.

'Anyway,' Lukas now said,' they examined one of Jonas' photographs that he hadn't sold yet, and it did indeed contain the soul of the dryad belonging to that tree. Destroying the photograph would of course release the soul, but that would ruin Jonas, he'd already sold quite a few.

So George and Frances went to his home with him, searching his neighborhood for soulless dryads, and found several in an alley, hoarding garbage in trashcans and empty boxes. They sat there for an hour with Frances holding the plate, and one faerie approached her, but it couldn't get its soul back without a bit of help.

They had counted on this, so they sprinkled several herbs that are known for their magical properties on the plate, and a combination of sage and thyme did the trick: the soul came loose from the plate and joined the faerie, which woke up and didn't remember a thing.

It knew Frances and trusted her, so she was able to convince it to return to its tree with them. Jonas produced several other photographs, and they managed to free all the faeries in that alley, all the ones that Jonas still had the photographs of at home.

He is composing a list of the photographs he has sold and where they are now. George and Frances want you to know that they will sort out the ones in galleries and private homes, free the faeries then return the photographs to their owner, but they ask if we can get the ones from the factory.

It seems the owner is using them to get magical power and he will not lend them out to let the souls escape, it's the souls he's after and he's not going to let them go without a fight. They gave me a supply of sage and thyme, mixed in the right proportions.'

That would save us a lot of work, though of course we'd still have the most dangerous job to do, but since Paul was the guardian of this quarter, he should be a match for any magician with no power of his own.

Paul observed: 'When this is over, we must think of a way to arm faeries against photographing, there must be a way to prevent them from being sucked up by cameras, or they'll disappear off the face of the world within a decade. People like to photograph trees and streams.'

He didn't mention anything about storming the factory, though that must have been on his mind. I guessed he was planning to go by himself, exclude us on the grounds that we were too inexperienced, not telling us about it because he knew we wouldn't accept that.

I didn't plan to confront him, I'd talk to Lukas about it and we'd let him know together we'd go a a group.

Paul might have the most power and experience, he couldn't see through this guy's magic, and I could. Lukas knew his way around in the factory, and he was probably the best fighter of the three of us. Together, we had everything we needed to get in, take the photographs and get out again. We would also need to free the faeries immediately, just outside the walls, which made our task a lot more difficult still, for they might be too scared to return with us and too weak to retun to their trees by themselves once they got their souls back.

We ate well, had our coffee, then cleared up the mess. I told Lukas about Paul's bicycles and he wanted to try one as well, though Paul said it would probably be a bit more difficult for him to ride one since he didn't have feet.

But first, Paul wanted to put in a few hours of work on his projects, and Lukas decided to join him. I kept Lukas back with an excuse, telling him I needed his help for a few minutes to plan a trip to pick up groceries.

Which was true, but first I wanted to warn him Paul was probably planning to go after the faerie-souls by himself. As soon as Paul had left I said: 'You do realize, Lukas, that Paul is probably planning to go after those photographs by himself?'

I saw realization dawn on him, and he replied: 'That ain't going to happen. I'll talk to him about it. This is exactly what we decided was not going to happen anymore when we realized how young he really is, I am certain I'm a much better fighter than he is, and I can become practically invisible. And you can see through anything, even through the weird kind of magic this guy uses. Don't worry, I'll make sure he won't do anything without us.'

Suddenly I realized how he had grown in the last few days, the impulsive youngster seemed to have developed a certain seriousness, a sense of responsibility. Was this due to his talent awakening? Then I remembered Paul telling me Lukas wasn't impulsive at all, except maybe in the matter of loving.

I decided to ask: 'Lukas, you seem different somehow, how come?' He looked at me intently, took my hands in his, and replied: 'I am, I am different. Would it be very pretentious to say I've come into my own? I've always picked up people's emotions to a certain extent, do you remember how it bothered me to witness Paul repressing his feelings towards you, when both of you so clearly loved eachother?' I nodded, remembering very well.

He continued: 'It was clear to me your love was mutual, but both of you only had the certainty of his own love, and a lot of doubt about the other's. Especially Paul's seeming denial of his love for you made me uncomfortable.

But now I feel much clearer, I felt Ilsa's hurt, and was able to address it so I could really help her. Melissa, through my talent she was cured of melancholia, instead of suffering from it for years to come, maybe for the rest of her life. I can help other people as well.

Paul needs healing too, and I know how it will come about, only he will not like it at first. I've arranged for Ilsa to come and visit.'

'You're right he won't like that. Are you sure it will not do more harm than good?' I asked seriously. 'Believe me, I know,' he replied, 'it will do something for him, I'm not entirely sure what is still wrong with him, he seems fine now, but my talent tells me he needs to show her his house, his craft, his life with you.'

He was so determined, I had to believe him, and I asked him: 'You seem so serious all of a sudden, Lukas, you've not lost your sillyness, have you?' He laughed at my fear of him losing his sillyness and said: 'No, I'm as silly as ever.'

Then his face lost the laugh again. 'Okay, I'm a bit serious now because I want to ask you for something and I'm afraid you'll not be able to give it to me anymore,' he confessed, 'I can help others with their feelings, but now I'm in the dark where my own self is concerned.'

His sweet face just tugged at my heart looking so serious and uncertain, that was just not my cheeky self-assured goat-man.

I embraced him passionately and whispered in his ear: 'You can ask anything, my love, how can you not know that?' He held me very tightly, and asked in a whisper: 'Will you make love to me?' Surprised at his uncertainty about that, I said: 'Sure, why wouldn't I? Now?' Relieved, he laughed, and told me: 'Not necessarily, no. Maybe tonight?'

'Of course I will, silly, can't you feel my love for you? I asked him. He replied: 'Honestly, no, I can't. I haven't felt your love since yesterday, I thought you were disgusted by my, well, telling about Frances, Ilsa, you know.'

I told him: 'As if you could have done anything else. But it's not true, you must have felt my love this afternoon, when you held my hand and Paul dropped the shield. I felt yours clearly. Wait a sec, the shield, Lukas, that's it. You haven't felt my love because Paul put a shield on you. He must have made it too tight.'

Still Lukas didn't look convinced: 'But I can feel his clearly.' I suggested: 'Maybe because the shield is his, and you connected to him to replenish your magical energy. But why speculate, let's just ask him.' I took his hand and took him with me to the workshop.

Paul was deep in concentration over something, so we watched until he'd be finished. He didn't seem to be crafting, and when I used sight he appeared to be using magic, though clearly metal was involved.

I was still wondering what he was doing when he spoke: 'Good, you're here just in time to seal it to your aura. Will you join me for sec, Lukas?'

Lukas stepped towards him, and Paul explained: 'This is your necklace, the centre stone can be used as a focus, and since you're now officially a mage I decided to activate it, so you can actually use it the way it is meant to. You only need to key it to yourself, prime it to your sole use, and for that you will have to touch it and reach out to it.'

This was all very exciting, and Lukas trustingly reached out to the stone. As he touched it, his face blanked and he stood like that for a few moments. Then he came back in the now and said: 'That was interesting. So what can I do with it?

Paul explained: 'You can charge it when you have a lot of energy, then when you need to use more energy than you have in your body, you can drain the stone, and when you are back to full strength, you fill it again. I'll show you how, somewhere tomorrow? Then you can start using your own shield for few hours without risking getting drained.'

That sounded really useful, and Lukas thanked Paul profusely, starting with a really big hug. Not only had Lukas grown a lot, Paul was also a different man, showing his feelings clearly, and returning the hug with evident enjoyment.

But he could still surprise us, for he told Lukas: 'I want you to have it charged before we go on our expedition to retrieve the photographs, and I'll do my very best to make you one too, Melissa, you could use a store of energy as well.

Would the green stone in the golden necklace suit you?'

I couldn't believe my ears! He was planning to take us after all, I had totally misjudged him, underestimated him. I guess my face showed my guilty astonishment, only Paul interpreted it the wrong way, for he said: 'I know you think it's priceless, but I really don't care about the value, I just want you to be safe. Or don't you like it?'

Now it was my turn to embrace him, and I told him: 'It's not the necklace, I expected you to try to leave us behind, go for those photographs on your own. And now I feel ashamed to have had so little trust in you.'

Safe in his arms, a touch on my mind relayed feelings of intense love, and worry as well, plus a tiny bit of guilt, as Paul confessed: 'It did cross my mind, you know me well. You're both so new to magic, but frankly, I need you.

I need Lukas' stalking skills and heaven forbid, maybe his fighting skills. And without you, my dear, I would be head-blind, likely walking into danger without any warning.' 'I love that golden necklace and I will wear it proudly,' was my only answer.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Now Lukas deduced: 'So it is to be tomorrow night then, our raid on the factory.' Paul affirmed this: 'It is a very dangerous expedition, I want us to be well prepared, for we will not only have to steal those photographs, we will have to free the faeries within enemy territory as well.'

Thinking, Lukas suggested: 'If we take the photo's, wouldn't they come to us?'

'They would, but it might kill them to leave their hoards behind. I'm even thinking of asking Frances to wait outside to free them, to spare them the stress of being caught by a stranger, though it would endanger her,' was Paul's reply.

'If she brings George and Marcus, that risk could be reduced.' Lukas observed. 'You're right, all the more reason to plan this well,' Paul admitted, 'we were planning to go to the park tomorrow by bicycle, to practice throwing fireballs. You can run along and try one over there, without shoes first. And we can ask Frances and George if they are prepared to help.'

Lukas was now clearly considering something, and he quickly decided and asked: 'Paul, I have two things I want to discuss with you.

First, is it possible that you've made the shield on me too tight? I cannot feel Melissa's love for me anymore, and I used to feel that all the time. It makes me unsure, vulnerable. And I feel yours clearly.'

In answer, Paul touched Lukas on his cheek, and after a really short blank he said: 'Let me adjust it a teeny bit, so it feels normal again.' Suddenly Lukas showed his relief and said: 'That's enough, oh I've missed that.' He wrapped me in his arms and kissed me, really passionately, he just couldn't help it. I held him close, stroking his curly head, whispering sweet nonsense to him.

After a few minutes, he released his hold, swallowed a big lump in his throat, and said: 'Now I feel better.'

Paul excused himself: 'You never told me the shield wasn't right, nor did you show any sign of distress, you're not turning into a Victorian, are you?'

'I did feel you,' Lukas said, 'so I never suspected the shield.'

'I suppose that was because it's my work, I don't know, I've never been in this situation before,' Paul told him helplessly, and looking at Lukas and me together he added: 'please don't let me stop you from making love, I'll just entertain myself for an hour or so. I still know how to do that.'

'That is point number two, Paul. My talent says you need to see Ilsa, that something still needs to be healed in you,' Lukas had clearly decided not to surprise him with a visit, 'I've invited her over for a tour of your house tonight. If you trust me in this, you'll be busy showing her what you have made of your life. You can talk about what happened.

She will not fall in love with you again or fall back into melancholy. We can be with you when she first comes in, but you need to see eachother alone. Are you willing?'

This was a shock to dear Paul, and to be honest I wasn't so sure about it either. But Lukas had cured Ilsa, and he seemed very sure of himself. Sitting down, head in his hands, Paul clearly did need some healing yet.

In very strange reversal of roles, Lukas now laid a hand on Paul's shoulder, but said nothing. After some time, Paul hoarsely said: 'All right, if you say so, I will. It clearly still hurts me more than I expected, so you must be right. But I want you with me when she comes in, and if I cannot handle it, you stay with me, both of you.' We answered as one: 'It's a deal.'

Paul didn't eat much that night, the prospect of having to see Ilsa again clearly unnerved him totally. I felt really sorry for him, but the fact that it did touch him so deeply proved that he needed to see her, and before he put his life in danger.

Negative feelings like that had no place in magic, especially not in offensive magic.

We had a very silent meal, and we didn't take any coffee. When a carriage stopped in front of the house, Paul got up and went up the stairs, and it was now really impossible to see his emotional turmoil, he had totally blocked it, a painful reminder of a time when he had looked like this all the time.

I took his hand, but that offered him no relief at all, so I let it go again. But he was not having that, he picked it up with both hands, and pressed it to his chest. He clung to my hand so tightly that his grip was nearly painful, but at least he showed some feelings again.

I stroked his lovely curls, and his stubbled jaw, now locked shut. He kissed my hand, held on to it with one hand, and used the other to open the door.

Seeing Ilsa behind it, he froze instantly. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he looked as if he were dead. Lukas took over, disconcerted at the intensity of Paul's reaction, and he welcomed Ilsa, who of course didn't feel that intense pain anymore and felt incredibly guilty to see what she had done to her dear friend.

After their hug, Lukas looked at me questioningly, and I immediately understood. Letting Lukas take over Paul's hand, I welcomed Ilsa as well, and asked her to follow me to my apartment for a few moments.

As I looked back, I saw Lukas with Paul wrapped in his arms, and Paul was still motionless and expressionless. Leaving him, to be hospitable to the cause of his grief, was one of the hardest things I ever did, but my trust in Lukas was unshakable.

Ilsa said soothingly: 'Lukas will make it better, he did it for me so he can do it for Paul. I still feel guilty, I remember my pain but it is far away from me, his is still fresh, and of my doing.' I just couldn't speak, not until I knew how the love of my life was doing.

She'd have to understand, or just think me abominably rude, but I couldn't make polite conversation with Paul looking like death. Looking at me she said: 'I understand, just go back to him, I'll wait on the stairs.'

I forced myself to walk down slowly, saw Lukas still standing there, Paul still frozen. Lukas said to me, near desperation: 'I can't reach him, he has a shield on me.'

I'd forgotten that, but who'd have thought he'd react so intensely. Of course it was often said that people with iron self control had very strong feelings hidden inside them, and we'd both seen his 'younger' self, but this was as bad as when we returned from the rave. I could think of only one thing to pass by his blocked feelings, and I joined the embrace and brushed his mind with my love and my worry.

He grabbed my mind, clutched at my love, still not letting go of his self control. I asked him to remove the shields on Lukas, and surprised by such a dry request he did as I asked. Immediately I could feel Lukas' talent take over, it carefully loosened the blockage, and I felt Paul's years and years of grief pouring out.

His immense pain nearly overwhelmed me, but not Lukas. He reviewed every painful scene with Paul, every night spent alone in constant wonderment what he would do without his substitute family, every doubt if he would ever be able to love someone romantically, over and over again, until the pain went out of it and only the memory remained.

I could also feel Lukas overspending magical energy again, it didn't trickle out of him, this process pulled it out of him. I fed him as much of mine as I could, but of course I didn't have that much. I wanted Paul to be well again, but I didn't want the cure to maim or kill Lukas, and I nearly panicked, until I wondered why Lukas didn't just take some of Paul's energy.

Then I realised they hadn't gotten to that point yet, Paul had fed Lukas the power. Since I did know how to do it, I just went ahead and tried it, and fortunately, it worked.

Paul allowed me to tap his power, and I directed it to Lukas, who gratefully accepted it. It was over in less than five minutes.

We stood in silence in a threefold embrace, and Paul regained his senses first. 'I could use some of that tea, and I bet you can, too, ' he said almost playfully.

And to Lukas: 'You really have a marvellous gift, I still feel the pain, but it doesn't control me anymore. I think I can talk about it now.

But you will need to learn fast, for your talent was clearly awoken too quickly and it is too strong for you yet, it could easily kill you. Melissa, you are a fast thinker.' He seemed totally normal now, but I needed to be sure he wasn't acting again, so I touched his mind again and was welcomed with a happy loving feeling. He kissed me and said: 'Can't fool you, eh? Let me put a shield on Lukas before our love kills him.'

For poor Lukas had fainted in his arms, and Paul lifted him and carried him up the stairs. I followed. On the landing he looked straight at Ilsa, kissed her on her cheek, and said: 'Come see my place, Lukas needs your mom's tea.'

And he led us into his apartment, leaving Ilsa to gape at the interior, placing Lukas gently on the sofa, stroking his cute face. I walked on, poured hot water in the teapot, added the herb mixture and took it to the living-room with four cups and a few chocolates.

The smell of the tea revived Lukas into consciousness, at which Paul kissed him intensely, I guess to establish the necessary bond to transfer magical energy. It was pretty unsubtle for Paul, but a light touch would not reach a near-unconscious man. It helped straight away, Lukas sat up and answered the kiss with energy.

He started to fondle Paul's cheeks, his throat, his chest, until he woke up with a start and stopped instantly, making an excuse for his forwardness. In answer, Paul kissed him again and fondled Lukas' cheek, saying: 'No more making excuses to me, Lukas, I will accept your love more graciously in the future. I have a guest now, but I'll be glad to take the next step tonight.'

Of course, Ilsa was not finished by far admiring the spectacular house, but Paul was now ready to be a good host again and handing me a cup of tea and a loving goat-man on my lap, he went to Ilsa and started the real tour. I continued his loving ministrations of Lukas, stroking him, kissing him, holding him close.

He enjoyed it immensely, he'd healed his friend after all and the price was well worth it to him. He was soon ready to drink the tea, which completed the restoration of his power, and now he started to really heat up under my hands.

I asked him: 'Do you want to retire to my appartment? Or do you need to stay with him? Maybe you want to save your love for him tonight? I'd understand. You decide.' He nuzzled my neck and touched my breasts through the dress, saying: 'Healing really turns me on, I'd like to make love with you now. I think they can be alone, but let's ask.

There'll be plenty left for tonight. Shall I pretend to need to go to bed, for Ilsa's sake?' I said: 'I'll ask. Drink that tea.' So I went to Paul, and when Ilsa was admiring an especially beautiful ornament, I whispered: 'Lukas wants to make love, can we go upstairs and leave you two? And do you want him to pretend he needs a nap to explain our absence?'

Paul quickly whispered back: 'Please do, we need some time alone, to talk about a lot of things that happened. But my promise to Lukas still stands, don't drain him.' 'You know love only feeds him,' I said laughingly, and at that, Paul clearly had an insight. 'Save that thought, it is very important, I'm sure. Can I have a kiss?'

I kissed him intensely, not caring if Ilsa saw it.

Then I went upstairs with Lukas, him pretending to be a little weak still. 'I'm sorry Ilsa, I need a little nap, Melissa is helping me up, see you later!' As soon as we were outside the apartment, he skipped up the stairs, holding my hand, and kissing me every few steps.

'Love, love, love, my love will cure the world!' he called out exuberantly. And I saved that alongside my old adagium, that love gave Lukas energy, no matter how he exhausted himself performing it.

Reaching the door to my apartment, his kissing increased in intensity, his whole being increased in intensity. I remembered our first few days together, not even that long ago, just a few months, not the years we seemed to know eachother already.

He was still emaciated then, insecure with our strange morals, needing me to confirm my love for him with a lot of physical loving. And look at him now, self-confident, muscled, but still very, very sweet, though that wasn't very obvious now.

Since he had lost his clothing as soon as we went through the door, he was mainly very, very obviously aroused, his rather large penis standing up nearly straight, his eyes fixing me in a very intense heat. It made me tingle from head to toe, but between my legs I felt much stronger sensations than just tingling, the look of him caused a throbbing feeling of wanting that substantial member of his in me, quickly.

Still fixing me with heated eyes he approached, and his musky smell intoxicated me. I wanted him to take me against the wall, on the kitchen table, wherever, but rough, not tender. He had always picked up my desires before, and he did so now, laughing happily he lifted me easily, sat me on the small table where I used to display flowers, lifted my skirt and plunged in.

I couldn't suppress a cry of triumph, and this caused him to laugh out loud, and say: 'Liked that, didn't you? Want more?' He was not pumping as usual, just moving in and out really slowly and deeply, keeping me on the edge of bliss, but eager for more, more speed, more force. I nodded frantically and breathed: 'Yes, please, give me more, as much as you've got.' -He said: 'You know what do do to get more,' and he was right, I did know, so I went straight for his stumps, stroking the bases quite firmly, and the result was an explosion of bliss, on his face first, then on mine, as he speeded up and became quite rough again, laughing again now, doing what he loved best, exerting himself making love until he nearly dropped with exhaustion.

But my goat-man had improved in stamina and musculature, he showed no sign of being out of breath, he even kissed me intensely, not slowing down or breathing hard, and I felt my ecstasy rising and rising, riding his movement until it exploded out of me with another cry.

He intensified his efforts even more, hands on my hips, kissing me now and again, until his body shocked once, twice, several times in his release.

And he did not collapse on me, not because it would have been uncomfortable, which was true, but because he was still not even out of breath! He laughed at my amazement, said: 'I told you my stamina woud improve quickly once I could run again, and it did.

Besides, making love gives me so much energy.' Now he realised it himself, repeating: 'Gives me energy. Do you suppose my kind of magical energy is meant to be re-charged with love?' He looked at me in wonder for a minute, but then he observed: 'This is not the time to think about magic. Let's get you out of that dress and hit the bed.'

And on that bed he started our loving all over again, but very tenderly now, bringing me to unknown heights again and again before having a second round himself, just as energetically, but a lot less rough. He had me totally sated afterwards, and was a lot more restful himself, laying next to me, absently fondling my soft breasts, nuzzling my neck.

I told him: 'Paul asked me to hold on to the thought of loving giving you energy, just now, before we went upstairs. I guess we'll have to find out if you're able to recharge with love, and if so, how to do that.

Healing seems rather a dangerous thing to do for you, unless we can find a way to recharge you quickly and easily.' He nodded, and said triumphantly: 'But it works, I was shocked to see Paul tonight, so much grief, but when my gift got to him it did work.

He felt left out, had felt left out all his life. Of course he was finally starting to bond to us, but two weeks of being together cannot make up for a lifetime of loneliness.' Then he clearly got a cheeky thought, and fortunately he let me in on it: 'I'm looking forward to exploring the potential of making love to recharge magical energy. Starting with the two of you!'

We both laughed, then dressed again, I didn't wear the house-dress, but a really nice one, supposing Ilsa would still be there, wanting to look my best in front of her.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

When we entered Paul's house, all was still well. Ilsa and Paul were sitting on the sofa truly comfortably, no hidden tensions, just two old friends catching up on their mutual lives after a long separation.

Ilsa greeted us enthousiastically, asking: 'Are you feeling better, Lukas? It seems unfair that you should be paying the whole price of healing people.' At this, Lukas had a little thought, then said: 'I feel much better, I've always recovered quickly.

But it is not as if you have al the gain and I paid the entire price and have gotten nothing in return. You have an absence of pain, of negative feelings, but I have a positive feeling of accomplishment, and I don't mind telling you it can be very heady. It's like Paul making a beautiful work of art, and giving it to someone he really loves: the joy of giving can exceed the joy of receiving. Did he show you his workshop already?'

Ilsa immediately said: 'He did, it is all so beautiful, and so ingenious. Of course we have the boiler, but I still thought he mainly spent his time doing magic and crafting in his spare time, when it really is the other way around.'

She was rather pretty and sweet, but it was very clear that she was no rival to me. Paul was still a bit quiet, but he winked at me to show he was fine.

I decided it was the right time of the day to drink a glass of wine, so I got a bottle from the cellar and opened it, took it to the living-room with a few glasses, then made another trip to the kitchen for something to nibble on and two more glasses. I poured the wine for all of us, and soon we were chatting away about faeries, brothers and sisters, ambitions and of course, love.

Ilsa was amazed that I had a job in a man's profession, but I said: 'My parents are working class, so I had the choice between marrying or taking a man's job. In a woman's job I would be fired as soon as I got married. Then I'd be totally dependent on my husband.

I've a reputation now, I think I could easily get a job with any building firm in the city.'

Of course, she had not given much thought to working for her living, her parents were loaded, and before her slide into melancholia she'd counted on marrying a man from the same social class. That he didn't live off his parents or an estate was again a big surprise to her. I'm sure it set her to thinking about learning a trade or craft herself, both her parents had a job after all.

Asked about my siblings, I told them of my two older sisters, who were already married and well on their way of providing my dad with the long wished-for grandchildren.

'They both live in the city, but I don't see them very often, they are quite scandalised by my way of living,' I told them, 'and they don't even know yet that I live with a man without being married to him. Suppose we take the bicycles and visit, Paul? I'll tell them you're highborn and I'm your mistress.'

Finally, Paul laughed out loud, observing: 'They'd die of shame twice, I hope you realise how indecent most people find women riding bicycles, Melissa?' I said: 'I do know, and I don't care. I think it is the perfect mode of transport, no need to keep horses and staff to feed them and muck out stables. And good exercise as well. If some old bats find it indecent, so be it.'

Now, Paul looked at me fondly and said: 'And that is why I love you, you live your own life. Well, that and your gorgeous copper hair, you know I love copper more than any other kind of metal.' He was different already, paying little funny compliments, I hoped Paul would still be Paul after tonight!

He got a big smile from me as thank you, and that was enough.

Now, Ilsa wanted to know more about Lukas' view on love. He had told her and her siblings about it, but she still wondered if it gave him any trouble at all to find partners with the same needs. Lukas said: 'Have you ever heard of polka-dances here in the city?

They're usually held in smaller establishments in garden houses, and in dry weather outside as well. The musicians play really fast music, and the couples dance faster and faster until they feel giddy and very gay. Then they take a rest and things happen sometimes.'

Ilsa laughed and said: 'Sounds like a place my parents would like, lots of young people wanting sex without strings attached.' I realised she was right, her parents both seemed to prefer free love as well.

Paul observed, dryly: 'I don't see them dancing until they nearly drop, though.' This image caused a lot of hilarity, and Lukas said: 'They have plenty of cash, so they could easily have a place like that built, hire good musicians, give away a few drinks, and it fills up almost automatically.' But Ilsa was serious: 'Maybe I'll suggest it to them, it would be a nice job for me, organising parties.

After my first experience with you, I don't think I want to stop making love, but I'm not ready to give my heart away again, not for some time I think. I'll amuse myself by making a little plan. Can I come with you some time, when you go?'

Lukas said: 'Sure, but I guess Julia and Marcus go there too, it might be easier to go in a group at first. We could gather here.'

It was getting dark, and when we heard horses and a carriage stop out front, Ilsa kissed all of us, and Paul walked her to the door. When he came back downstairs I poured the remaining wine in our three glasses, and he excused himself for a second, went off in the direction of the bathroom for a few minutes, then came back to help us finish the wine.

We sat on the sofa together, silent for a moment. Lukas looked smug, I couldn't think of another word. I think Paul saw it too, for he said reproachfully: 'What are you congratulating yourself on, you great billy?

Don't you realise you may just have released that whole family on this poor city? They were bad enough on that estate of theirs, tempting beautiful young men of both affiliations to sink themselves in debauchery of the worst kind. And now you've given them a way to lead every young man, and maybe some young women, into sinful temptation!'

It might have been the wine, or the fact that Paul was making jokes, but Lukas and I just couldn't stand it anymore, we nearly rolled over the floor laughing.

'I love it when you talk dirty to me, Paul,' Lukas said lewdly, 'it makes me feel...bad.'

Paul now kneeled in front of Lukas, scratching him on his curly head, right between the stumps of his horns: 'So you like me to call you a billy goat, and randy, do you?'

Lukas looked more like a stunned ox than a goat, to be honest. Paul's action had caught him completely by surprise, and he yielded to the caresses, glassy eyed with ardor.

But Paul wasn't done yet, he moved his one hand to the side, straight to the base of the horn, his other one joining to caress the other horn base, and he said: 'And now I want to see your hocks, and your tail, and I want to run my hand over them, to feel if you've put on enough weight, not to sell you, but to hire you out for stud-service.'

I thought that was going pretty far, but Lukas didn't look insulted at all, he leaned into Paul's scratching with his eyes now fixed on Paul, passion taking over quickly.

Lukas wanted to touch Paul, was still holding back, but Paul goaded him on: 'Come on, touch me where you want, I promised, remember?' Encouraged, he stroked Paul's stubbly cheek and jaw, and I did believe I saw Paul shiver under this tentative, tender touch.

For despite being egged on, Lukas stayed well aware of the occasion, treating Paul as if he were made of glass, breakable and well able to hurt him. The stroking moved down slowly, exploring Paul's neck now, and the opening of his shirt.

Paul was still scratching Lukas' horn bases, but more softly now, adjusting to Lukas' apparent mood. He had moved to sit beside him, and Lukas' head was resting against his chest, still enjoying the scratching ecstatically.

Lukas had now manoeuvered his hand under Paul's shirt, clearly enjoying the feel of the solid muscle there, Paul also able to submit to his feelings for another man. When Lukas had gotten used to touching Paul freely, the latter spoke again: 'I've a surprise for you, Lukas, will you follow me?'

'I will follow you anywhere, just don't stop,' was the husky answer, and Paul didn't, he continued his caresses of Lukas' horns as he led him towards the bathroom. Looking back, he asked me: 'Will you come too?'

He could count on it, I wouldn't miss this for the world! I nodded, and followed the two. Halfway there, Paul stopped and kissed Lukas ardently, his hands under Lukas' shirt now, exploring that one's chest, finding it nearly as muscled as his own, though rather narrower.

He walked in front of Lukas, still kissing, still touching, and led him into the bathroom, where Lukas had never been before.

I closed the door behind me, eyes still on the boys. Lukas' eyes became very large at the sight of the gorgeous bathroom with the mosaic on the walls. It was almost funny, to see him torn between making love and taking in all the beauty around him.

The bath was almost full, so I turned off the taps, and leaving the guys to do their thing, I carefully got in. When I was used to the hot water and looked at them from the vantagepoint of the bath, I saw that Lukas had chosen love over beauty, and good for him, for he could explore the whole room at his leisure whenever he wanted to.

Whereas Paul was in an extraordinary mood, which might never happen again, though I doubted that.

Paul was now unbuttoning Lukas' shirt, as Lukas unbuttoned Paul's. They both had nimble fingers, and they managed to do it really quickly, kissing nearly the whole time. Of course, pants were next, and I hoped Paul wouldn't be too shocked at seeing Lukas' penis at its largest and most exited, though I guess Lukas would have understood if it scared him.

But either Paul's blood was up, or he had expected as much, for he didn't bat an eyelid at the sight of it. And now he did indeed stand back a little, as visibly exited as Lukas, as if to inspect Lukas' condition as he had announced.

Paul looked at his cute little tail, reached out for it lovingly, fondling it, then his work-calloused hand stroked Lukas' tiny but firm buttocks, his other hand resting on Lukas' stomach, tantalisingly close to his throbbing penis.

He clasped his hand around Lukas' bottom, nearly covering it with his hand, squeezing it lightly, stroking between the cheeks until he reached the sensitive testicles underneath, cupping them very carefully and lightly. Looking more like a statue of a sater than a live person, Lukas submitted to Paul's seemingly demeaning actions with an expression of total exaltation.

Now, Paul went to his knees, letting go of the testicles and letting his hand stroke the inner leg, feeling the muscles there, nuzzling and kissing the nearest cheek of his buttocks. A shudder ran through Lukas, breaking his total lack of motion, his penis tried to stand a little stiffer, but it couldn't, so it just moved up and down a tiny bit.

Paul's hand had reached the hock of Lukas' leg, and he took the front of it in his full hand, asked for a hoof, and got it!

I would've kicked him, but it seemed Paul knew exactly what Lukas liked, for it really did turn him on immensely, I could see his face still in total elation at Paul's dominant touch. The hoof got an inspection as well, and apparently the spot where it touched his leg was very sensitive as well, for Paul scratched it tenderly and got another shiver as result.

My doubt at Paul's treatment vanished as Paul now invited Lukas to come with him into the pool, but was refused and shown Lukas' other side. That needed inspection as well!

Of course Paul had no problem repeating the whole process on the reverse side, only now he didn't hold Lukas' flat stomach, but the area a bit lower, penis sticking out, craving attention but having to await the inspection.

Butt cheek, testicles, inner leg, hock and hoof all got their share of the attention, and when the inspection was done Paul, kneeling beside Lukas but still rather dominantly, turned Lukas around a little bit and took his penis in his mouth in one flowing motion.

This didn't cause a shiver, but a shudder, and Lukas buckled and nearly fell. Paul caught him expertly and led him to the bath, now less hot but still very comfortable. He floated Lukas as he had once floated me and again mouthed his penis, slowly moving up and down its length, putting Lukas in total ecstasy.

I was amazed at how quiet Paul managed to keep Lukas, one would expect him to be moving along already, he never had this much patience with tenderness, preferring more active acts of love. But I saw some signs that his passiveness was about to end, he was moving along now, ready for some action.

I didn't think Paul would be able to have real intercourse with a man, and by now I was so worked up, I hoped they'd think of me to solve that little problem.

Lukas was now clearly aching to do some furious thrusting, and he looked straight at Paul, submissive posture all gone, fire in his eyes. But Paul had clearly thought this through, he scratched Lukas' horns again until he was near madness with lust.

Then Paul looked at me questioningly, and I nodded, I was up for some action. Still scratching, Paul kissed Lukas deeply, then told Lukas, looking at me: 'You've passed the inspection with flying colours, handsome, and now I'm going to put you to work.'

And did I feel insulted or embarrassed to be suddenly included in the action? I certainly did not, watching this had me totally ready for some action of my own, and frankly I didn't care from whom it came.

Feeling my heat, knowing he was welcome, Lukas grabbed hold of Paul and kissed him with the energy he had worked up, at the same time thrusting himself in me with the same energy, but under water. I was so ready for it, I had never been so excited in my life, not even when having sex myself.

When Lukas released the kiss, I wanted a part of Paul too, so I claimed a kiss from him, but I really wanted something else. I didn't know if it was possible, but I felt under water for his penis, and tried to get it towards my mouth.

Actually, it worked quite well, and soon Paul was floating on the water in exaltation, Lukas was thrusting happily, not letting the water stop his energy one bit, and I was in contact with both my men, feeling my heat rise quickly to a blissful climax, and passing it straight on with my mouth and tongue.

Of course it didn't last long after that, both men had been worked up to the limit before they even started, but it was heaven as long as it lasted. We shared eachother's feelings freely through the intense physical contact, and soon I felt Paul's ecstasy just before he came to a shuddering climax, outside my mouth I may add, he'd remembered that.

And seconds later I felt and saw Lukas' high coming on to him, he speeded up even more and arched over me, collapsing on me with a splash. I saw his laugh, and realised he'd done that on purpose for he was not winded, despite having had the resistance of the water to contend with.

Very satisfied, we all floated for some time, relishing the feeling of calm satisfaction spread through our threesome, though Lukas may have been a little distracted by the workmanship all around him, the beautiful bath we were floating in, the mosaic on the walls.

We enjoyed the water until we got a little cold, and then we dried off, gathered our clothes and ran for the bedroom, diving between the sheets to warm up. For some time, no one said anything, but then Paul spoke: 'I hope you can forgive me for treating you like that, Lukas, I have no idea what came over me.'

Lukas turned towards him, stroked his cheek, and said: 'No need for an apology Paul, I have never felt such elation before. Maybe it was just you touching me, I've yearned for that for so long.

But I don't think so, the things you did were so tender they needed a dominant package. You celebrated my differences, you didn't actually treat me like an animal, who would kneel for an animal to kiss its butt cheeks, or fondle its testicles?'

'Hmm, your butt cheeks were lovely,' Paul said lazily, 'I wanted to bite them.' 'As well you didn't,' Lukas laughed, 'my hoofs are very hard.' 'I know. I checked, remember,' was the answer, and he got a pillow in his face for his trouble.

I loved to see their easy playfulness, who would have thought it would come to this, just a week ago? I had expected Lukas to get into trouble as soon as he got outside the house, but instead he had found an outlet for his excess energy, new friends and a unique talent.

Instead of turning away from us towards casual love, he had come closer to us, had won Paul's love.

Noting the silence around me, I came out of my reverie to see two cheeky masculine faces stare at me. 'What do you suppose she's thinking of, Paul?' Lukas asked. 'I haven't even a clue, Lukas,' Paul replied, 'maybe she wants a bit of attention for herself?'

'We have kind of neglected her, haven't we?' Lukas said. Paul replied: 'Indeed we have, and now we must make up for it.'

They snuggled up to me, each on one side of me, as I said: 'I'm just glad we're all happy. You seem different Paul, looser somehow.' I could feel hands all over my curves, stroking me softly, making me feel incredibly loved and wanted, and I heard Paul's voice: 'I do feel different, I find I can trust you now, both of you, I thought I did before but there was always some doubt.

There isn't anymore. I trust I'm a good guardian, I'll save those faeries with your help, and we'll find a way to help those deserted children and clear up that mess. And I trust my inventions will be as useful as the stuff I usually make, and as popular as my jewelery will be according to your colleagues. That is such a relief, that I want to run through the streets shouting for joy.

But I won't, don't worry. I will save my elation for tomorrow, when you and I will chase Lukas on our bicycles, to the Nomes' manor, where we will throw fireballs, and teach Lukas to ride a bicycle.'

That idea clearly suited Lukas, for he said: 'I'm glad you trusted me to help you, Paul. I do want to learn to ride a bicycle, see how fast it can go. And after that I think I'll go chase George, you've given me a taste for male company again.' Adding thoughtfully: 'I guess at his age, he must know quite a few tricks.'

Paul and I looked at eachother, then laughed at Lukas' professed intentions, I hoped he would tell us all about it. I asked Paul: 'May I borrow your bicycle tomorrow to go to work? It would easily save half an hour.'

When he replied, I heard doubt in his voice, as he said: 'Do you think that is a good idea? I've heard that men regard women on bicycles as tantalising, it might ruin the professional reputation you've built up by wearing suits and putting up your hair.'

I had not realised it was that bad, but still I was not planning to let other people lead my life for me, so I asked: 'Do you think I'd be in danger riding one?' His answer was not promising: 'I really don't know, you might be.' I didn't like that at all, conventions and male dominance had a lot of potential to make me angry.

He thought of something: 'What if I come with you? You'd not be alone, and we could see how people react. And I wouldn't mind meeting the contractor who likes copper as much as I do.' I tried to think of reasons why this wouldn't be a good idea, but I couldn't think of any. Even the bicycles would be good advertising for Paul's craftsmanship. So I told him: 'I'd love to show you the building and meet that contractor, please do come with me.'


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The next morning we all got up at dawn, Lukas had some projects to work on, and we got the bicycles out of the shed after breakfast and cycled to the site. The roads were fine, reasonably flat and not too many potholes or piles of horse-dung.

That would be different in the middle of the city, but to me, cycling through a dung-pile was still preferable to walking around or jumping over one. The traffic got busier towards the site, but my experience with handling the bicycle improved quickly, and I didn't fall or cause an accident.

I even managed to check the people we passed by, and though a lot of them stared at us, they mainly stared at all of us, the bicycles and the riders, not at me in particular.

Like me, they had never seen a bicycle before, and it was puzzling how we could move so fast with just our own strength to propel us, and why we didn't fall over on those two slim wheels. I saw no leering looks thrown at me, and no-one called after me or threatened me.

Maybe Paul had seen something, I did have to watch the road carefully still, so I could have missed some. There were no obstacles between our house and the site, so we managed to cycle the whole distance, and I think we won at least ten minutes compared to walking, on the way over alone.

When we arrived at the gate, we made quite an entrance. I managed to stop without mishap, and Paul of course swung his leg over the saddle with a flourish.

We leaned the bicycles against the inside fence, near the gate, and had to answer all kinds of questions: was it hard to learn, where did we get those things, what were they called.

Paul answered them quickly and efficiently, I saw one carpenter leer, but he leered at me all the time, so he probably did that to all girls.

Soon, we went towards the cabin, and met the architect. He told me he was very pleased I had checked all the materials with my sixth sense, and though he generally didn't believe in them, mine had proven to be an exception and very dependable.

He had seen us come in on the bikes, and he proved he could count to two very adequately: ' So this must be the craftsmaster who made those exquisite little horses, my pleasure to meet you sir, I had you figured for a renowned artist.' I said: 'Paul, may I introduce you to Mr Fritz Fogel, the respected architect from whose brain this building has sprung.

And Mr Fogel, may I introduce Paul Kenwick to you, indeed the maker of the locally famous necklace with the moving horses, and those new-fangled bicycles over there.'

They shook hands and Paul graciously said: 'Thank you very much for the compliments, Mr Fogel, I am looking forward very much to seeing your lovely creation from up close.'

The architect now asked: 'Could I perchance try one of your bicycles during the coffee break? I've always wanted to have a go at one of those, it would save a lot of time and effort moving around in the city.' Paul promised him he could, and we took leave and continued towards the cabin.

The two main contractors were there in a heated discussion when we came in, the glass man saying: 'You earn your own living from their money, who do you think pay for the booming business in our line of work?'

My favorite contractor retorted: 'I know that is true, but women and children, working days of up to ten hours, no wonder they are dying like flies! You wouldn't want your own children living in conditions like these?'

We looked at eachother, ears pricked, for this might concern our factory. The other man said: 'Of course not, but who says they are dying because of the work, they have been working in those factories for years, but this sickness has only just started to claim so many lives.'

And my favourite: 'But I have read in the papers that large numbers of fish have been dying for no apparent reason for weeks now.'

Apparently, we had missed something, and it was clear Paul thought so too, for he did not hesitate to ask: 'Gentlemen, I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of a discussion, but I couldn't help catching some of your phrases and I'm afraid I have missed some of the news. Would you be so kind as to fill me in?'

'Sure,' the iron contractor said, 'but first let me ask you something, sir: are you by any chance the artist who crafted the lovely copper necklace with horses that really seem to move, which Miss Thorn has taken to wearing since yesterday?'

Paul acknowledged this with a bow, and the contractor said: 'Then I am really pleased to make your acquaintance, my name is Rupert Jones, I am the main contractor on this site, my company has cast the iron frame and installed it, and we are also placing the heating system and organising the landscaping.

Mr James Kent here is responsible for the only element we have no expertise in, the glass paneling.' Paul now shook hands with both: 'Paul Kenwick, indeed master craftsman in the field of cast iron and ornamentation in copper and bronze.

But I also invent conveniences, mainly steam-powered or steam-related. Pleased to meet you both.' The glass contractor now knit his brow: 'Kenwick, that name rings a bell.'

Paul replied, a bit embarrassedly: 'My family has a house in town, and owns some further real estate here, since you're in the business you might have come across the name.'

The iron contractor said: 'You're young to be so skilled, I'll be sure to step by your business soon to talk some shop. But I promised to tell you about the news we were discussing.

Apparently large numbers of fish have been found dead in the river several times the last weeks, without a known cause for their demise, no oxigen starvation, no known disease. It looks like poison.

And just yesterday, several women and children have died suddenly, it seems also from poisoning, but since they all worked in a nearby factory, it is also suspected they may have died from fatigue. A sad business, if you ask me, children should be in school, not in a factory at work.'

Paul looked worried now, and asked: 'Which factory in which quarter, do you know?'

The man answered: 'I think it was a ceramics factory, my wife said she'd never look at her earthenware the same way, now she knew it was made by childrens' hands. It was way downstream at any rate, we only have the wool-factory here, unsavory place though it is, no-one has died there yet. As far as we know.'

Paul thanked him and we took leave, on our way to check the building. We started on the outside, and Paul was as interested in the techniques used as Lukas.

I could see he was memorising things, probably for the glasshouse he was going to build for the Nomes'.

Then the bell rang for the morning break, and he fulfilled his promise to the architect, and any other person who wanted to forgo a cup of coffee for a few yards on a bicycle. I helped too, so we could use two bicycles.

When everyone was back at work, we went inside the building, where some of the piping had been welded inside the ditches, and the boiler had arrived! We went to see it, it was a huge black thing of little beauty, but it looked solid enough.

Paul gave me his hand as I touched the mammoth lump of hollow cast iron, and I felt it for flaws, or to put it in the correct term, I checked it with my sight. The grid was fine, the emanations were staggering, but true.

I couldn't feel a flaw, fortunately, for heads would roll if something was wrong with it and I preferred not to be the bringer of bad news.

'My is it ugly, it hurts both my eyes and my tender feelings,' Paul whispered in my ear.

I asked: 'What would it cost to make a bronze or copper boiler of this size?' He replied: 'I don't think it can be done, copper and bronze are not strong enough to make a hollow vessel this size. But I wonder if iron is, I don't know if this thing will hold up.

I'd probably install several smaller ones in a series I guess, it also prevents total shutdown if one fails. That would cost about half again what this cost, and ornaments would be extra of course. Not too tired?'

I wasn't. Practicing magic every day clearly improved my supply of power. I collected the latest, and nearly last, calculations and drawings at the cabin, and told Paul: 'This job is rapidly approaching its finish, I'm sure I can get another one, but I wonder if I should try to get one step ahead instead. Thanks to the magic I probably could.'

Now Paul turned towards me and said seriously: 'May I ask you to consider quitting it altogether?' My face must have reflected my shock, for I was really disappointed in him: 'What would I want to do that for? To marry you and have children?'

He took my hand and soothingly said: 'Please don't mistake my words, though I'd love to marry you and, yes, in time have children, I didn't mean you should give up your job to be with me.

Actually I do mean you should give up your job to be with me, but only your job, not your work.

I want us to go into business together, make buildings and innovations together, you're an engineer, you can test my ideas, calculate if they're realistic and of course think of your own innovations. We are both sides of a coin, you plan it, I build it. Will you please consider it?'

Relieved that I had misunderstood, and happy he wanted to marry me, I told him: 'I will.' Of course I did that on purpose, my revenge for the shock he gave me.

But he didn't take the bait, he just smiled affably and embraced me, to my distress, for I didn't want to spoil my image of sexlessness, but neither did I want to reject him.

So I tried to answer it as neutrally as possible, and he noticed and said: 'Sorry, I forgot. No hanky panky on the workfloor. Though we've had plenty on mine.'

'And we will again. Let's get the bicycles and go home, I'm all for lunch,' I said.

'And I'm dying for a few kisses, to make up for what I've missed here,' was his unexpected comment. I looked at him in surprise, and observed: 'You really are different.'

'I hope it's an improvement?' he queried. 'We'll have to see about that,' I said, but actually I was thrilled. I might love this new Paul even more, if that was at all possible.

We collected the bicycles and pedaled home. I was still thrilled by the speed and ease with which we moved, and again, I did not see anyone look at me specifically, people stared but I thought mainly at the idea of travelling on two wheels.

Before we knew it we were back home, putting the bicycles away in the shed and entering the workshop through the back door. Lukas was still working, whistling a merry tune, filing a tiny casting.

He looked up, smiled at us and said: 'Let me finish this tiny ornament and I'll join you for lunch.' Paul ruffled his hair, I kissed him on the cheek, and we went upstairs to prepare lunch. But there was not much more to do than make coffee and get the perishables from the cellar, for Lukas had laid out most of what we needed already.

That left us with a few moments, and I asked Paul: 'This counts as a workplace, doesn't it?' He nodded, and I embraced him and kissed him passionately, my hands in his curls and his exiting scent in my nose. Of course he returned my affection with fervor, and we enjoyed a few minutes of intimacy.

When Lukas came in, we had a nice lunch, I changed into something less formal, and we retrieved the bicycles and set off. Lukas kept up easily, I had not realised how fast he could run, he didn't show any strain staying just ahead of us, it looked more like a jog than a run. In the run-down neighborhood, people stared as much, but the roads seemed one big pothole, so I needed all my attention on the road and didn't see a lot of them.

We did manage to cross, and soon were pedaling past the industrial terrain, which was easier because there was no traffic there to spoil the road, it was overgrown with low grass, but not littered with potholes. The neighborhood past the factory had quite a nice road, of course the factory needed easy access for supplies. Soon we reached Sir Nomes' estate and turned into the gate.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The gatekeeper waved us past him, and we continued to cycle and run through the woods. At a nice straight stretch of road, I stopped the bicycle and clearly demonstrated its use to Lukas.

He got on, hoofs still in the shoes, one on the pedal and one on the ground. Then he set off, managing to catch the second pedal on his first try.

He disappeard in the distance, and came back in due time, pedaling really quickly. Just past us, he used the pedal to brake, and even got his foot on the ground before he fell. Of course he was a natural, physical exercise was his thing.

Unclamping the shoes one by one he tried it without them, and when he came back he observed that with shoes was preferable, as long as the clamps would hold. Paul assured him they would, so he did another lap with shoes, stopping it right in front of us with an abrupt brake and a slide.

Paul laughed and said: 'Go make your own bicycle to mistreat, truant!' Lukas replied: 'I may, with rougher tires so I can cross those hills.

Though I can run as fast as the thing goes, I think I'll go for a run now, then swim, then chase George a little.' I said: 'I hope you catch him. You'll tell us about it, won't you?' Already on the move he called: 'I will, every sordid detail, until your ears burn!'

I really loved that cheeky fellow!

The two of us left the bicycles against a tree, then went further into the open grassland. When we were well-removed from the road, Paul started my third lesson on fireballs, with only personal shields.

I conjured one on my hand twice, this was not very tiring anymore, then with Paul's consent gathered energy from outside my own body, and built another one, imagined its heat, then willed it to be, feeling energy flow into my body.

The ball was a beauty, searing hot and totally in my control, but the colour was wrong, it was green instead of the blue I had gotten used to. It didn't feel wrong, so I kept it for a while then dissipated it.

Only then did I see Paul's face in an expression of stunned amazement. 'What did I do?' I asked him, afraid something had gone wrong.

He blanked out for a moment, then laid a hand on me, contacted my mind, and at that moment I realised I had not felt that most intimate of connections before, when I raised the fireball. This time, the close contact with his mind did not turn me on as much, I guess I was distracted, and besides, we had done this so often now that it was easy to turn off the heat, as it were.

'So what was that about?' I asked.

Paul said: 'You know about innate magic, you know how to reach mine, and you know some mages steal power by capturing souls. Needless to say that is not allowed in any community, black mages are pariah's, always alone.

But there is another source of power, and that is life itself. Everything living gives off a tiny bit of energy to the environment. But there are a lot of living beings in most places, and all that energy concentrates to little streams of energy called ley-lines.

The ley-lines in turn connect to form nodes.

From the nodes, the energy dissipates, there are several theories where it goes, but that is not our issue today. Our issue is, that only certain mage gifted people can reach for the ley-lines to tap that power. When these mages attain a certain competence, they may even tap a node, though that is always dangerous to the mage and to the environment, for it is a lot of energy to handle, like a lightning bolt.

When you reached out for energy I expected you to access my store of personal energy, the closest source easily available to you. But your talent picked a different source, it tapped a ley-line that lies in this field, causing your fireball to glow green instead of blue, the colour of most personal magic. You are not supposed to be able to access that kind of energy until you reach master status, it is very singular that you should be able to handle it already.

But you did handle it, I saw your control over it. Can you see the ley-lines if you use sight? I looked around with sight, and did indeed see green glowing lines follow the contours of the landscape, like streams and rivers.

Following one towards the mansion I learned why the manor was placed where it was: a shiny node was directly below it, a nice clean source of power right under their home. Of course I didn't touch it, though I supposed I could have, but the lightning simile had rightfully frightened me.

Paul of course had followed my gaze, and when I looked at him he was still slightly alarmed, letting out a large sigh: 'I feared for a moment that you were going to touch that node.'

I said: 'I did not feel up to wrestling lightning yet.'

And he wrapped me in his arms, relieved, quite nervous still. 'Even a ley-line should be too strong for you, unreachable actually, but you handled it just fine.'

He released me, then asked: 'Can you find my power?' I reached out again, using sight this time, and corrected myself from the ley-line to Paul's power, clearly visible and indeed blue. I touched it, immediately feeling a mixture between pride of my capability and fear of my inexperience.

And, over all, love, so much love. It hit me right in my soul, and I could not but react to it, I flung myself at Paul and had to kiss him.

Before we knew it we were in the grass, kissing, groping. But Paul might have changed since the night before, he still had his iron will, and before our groping turned into serious love-making he asked me: 'How about flinging some fireballs first?

I can't overtax your energy anymore, you have a near unlimited supply now.'

Flinging fireballs did sound tempting, so we got up, shook the grass out of our clothes, and Paul demonstrated how I should throw a fireball. I emulated him slowly, using ley-line power, and flung my fireball quite a nice ways.

One more time, and Paul suggested a duel. He didn't trust my own shield yet, so he built one inside mine, to take over if mine should fail. He shielded himself as well, and we were off. His first ball was blue and medium size, and it hit my shields because I didn't know how to stop it.

The power dissipating from the shield confronted me with what we were dealing with, making me extra careful. Paul told me to actively stop the ball by taking its energy and either fling it back in the shape of a fireball, or direct it into my shields, strengthening them.

He shot off another one, and I managed to send half to the shield, the rest of the energy dissipated off it.

Then another one, and I managed to do the other thing, I sent the energy back to him, tinging my fireball dark green, and he let mine dissipate from the shield, to demonstrate the effect. Then I flung another one, and he caught it and sent the energy back. I shot another one, and he sent the energy into his shields, tinging them dark green where the energy found its path, very educating.

Then he fired two in quick succession and I caught one and had to let the other one go. My shield still held.

I fired one off, and another one, it was easy now, caught one, sent it to my shield, which exploded. I was happy with Paul's shield, I can tell you, for I felt the force of the blow fling me to the ground.

Paul was with me instantly, dismissing his shields, holding on to me again. 'This is damned difficult Melissa, every time something threatens you I go to pieces.'

I remembered the life expectancy of a guardian and said dryly: 'Better get used to it then, or we'll both die young.' This made him laugh in a rather strained way, and I added: 'I was safe, love, your shield held. What did I do wrong?

I thought it was great fun, and it clearly is great practice, for me and for you too, in trusting me, and trusting your teaching. You're doing great!' He let go a little, and said: 'You pushed the energy in the shield too quickly, it couldn't handle it and exploded. Next time, let it flow in by itself.'

'And shoot a fireball at the same time? I need more practice, that much is clear.' So we spent another half hour shooting fireballs at eachother, and at the end of that half hour even Paul had some trust in my handling of my shields.

We sat down in the grass together and I asked: 'Will Lukas be able to shoot fireballs?' Paul replied: 'I don't know, I've never had any experience with an empathic talent, and if his really is powered by love, I find it hard to imagine he could use it to do violence. I'm hoping George can help me with his training, he has seen so much more of the world than I have.'

I winked at Paul and observed: 'If Lukas has his way, he's getting training from George already, only of a totally different nature.'

'Actually not, my dear, I just realise that if love does indeed power Lukas' talent, what he is planning to do with George may turn into a lesson in magic after all,' Paul now said, and then, looking straight at me, he smiled and said: 'You quite liked to watch us yesterday, didn't you?' I recalled the feeling it gave me, kissed Paul intensely, then replied: 'It turned me on like nothing else, to see you finally touch him.

Though I was shocked at first at your style, I admit, but he seemed to like it a lot. He liked to be dominated I guess, but only by you, I think, and only with love. Seeing you kneel before him was very enticing.'

'If I hadn't known what he was, his size would have scared me, I think. And his energy at the end, is he always like that? Can you enjoy making love to me when you're used to such size and such a performance?'

Paul sounded a bit insecure now, so I told him the truth: 'He is very skilled, but you are too. His loving is terrific sport, you and me share more love. Your love-making feels as good to me as his, the size looks impressive, it doesn't feel differently though. He never has the patience to let me spoil him. The way he stood still and let you caress him for half an hour was really exceptional, maybe the occasion was so special to him that he managed. I sure loved to watch that.'

He didn't speak anymore, his mind touched mine and I embraced the contact, letting his love and his growing fervor fill me up.

The sun was in the sky, and the birds were going about their business around us, as we made love in the grass, forgetting about everything but eachother.

When we got to the mansion, I was again struck by its pleasant lack of grandioseness. It looked like it had always been there, part of the landscape, one with the trees and the gardens surrounding it. It just felt right.

'Does this place make you feel peaceful?' I asked Paul. I saw a fleeting look of pain cross his face, quickly replaced by sincere hope, as he answered: 'It used to for a long time, it felt more like home than the place where I was born and grew up. Then for a long time that made it even more painful to be here, but though I remember the pain well, it is now further removed from me. I have good hopes I will soon start to feel the peace again.'

I squeezed his hand, and he gave me a little kiss. We were met by Frances, who invited us to have coffee with her in her lovely garden, which of course we accepted, hoping we'd get some more new about the faeries, but I wanted to get to know her better as well.

She said: 'George will not be here for some time yet, I think. He was trying to charm your friend Lukas, though I'm not entirely sure who was chasing whom. George likes to think he's still on top of things, but it seems to me that your friend can be very subtle, and my handsome husband may find himself the party being chased.'

Paul loosened up a lot now, and laughed merrily: 'Oh Frances, you've lost none of your sharpness. Lukas has indeed announced to us that he was going to chase George today, see if he had any interesting tricks up his sleeve. And he may learn a lot more than he expects, since we think love is the key to his talent.

They'll have an interesting time, for Lukas is very fast, he'll certainly catch George. Maybe I should remove my shield from him, George can take care of him if needed.' And he blanked out for a few seconds.

When he came back to himself, Frances took both his hands and said: 'Paul, I owe you a profound apology. Ilsa told me about what happened yesterday, and I feel responsible for my share of your unhappy time here.

We should have supported your feelings straight away, and checked her grief immediately. Instead we let it paralyse her and drive you away into a life of loneliness. I hope you can forgive us, too.' Paul got up, embraced her and told her: 'Thank you Frances, it means a lot to me. I have been very lonely, but I'm happy now, and I want to share that happiness with you.'

I could easily see the deep love she had for him, in a way she really was his mother, and I hoped they would be able to repair the damage their relationship had suffered. I could see what Lukas had liked so much about her, and I also hoped he would get over the weird start of their acquaintance, but somehow I was sure he'd manage.

Now she broke my thoughts by saying: 'I have not really welcomed you to the family yet, Melissa, but I'd like to do so now. I can see Paul is in very much in love with you, and you with him. I hope you two will visit us often, or maybe I should say, the three of you, for somehow Lukas belongs to you too.'

It was astonishing to hear Paul say: 'He does. When all's said and done, he's ours.'

I could have wept for joy to hear him say that, but that was not my style, so I just gave him my most dazzling smile ever, and I could see it land very solidly.

After some of their fabulous coffee and a piece of fruit pie, Frances had some news on the faeries she and George were going to set free. The four that belonged to the trees that Jonas still had the photographs of had come back with them to the estate, and they were reunited with their tree or group of trees, most of which would probably survive their ordeal.

They could not remember much of what had happened, but Frances had managed to convince the remaining faeries to tell them again and again until they knew why their trees and their own bodies needed extra care. It appeared that the faeries themselves were more social than they had expected, they were really concerned about eachother.

Jonas had also managed to track down five more photographs, all owned by different private parties, and they were going after those in the afternoon, convincing the owner to lend them the plate for an hour, finding the faerie, freeing its soul, taking the photograph back, then returning the faerie to where it belonged.

Frances realised the faeries would fly from anyone but herself, so she was prepared to free them herself if they retrieved the photographs from the factory. We set a time to meet up outside the factory, in the neighborhood that separated their manor from the factory.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

George and Lukas now came in, hair still wet from swimming, expression of smug satisfaction on either face. I had to agree with Lukas that George was a rather striking figure, the grey in his hair and the lines in his face adding to his charisma rather than lessening it.

Still, Lukas didn't seem deferential to him, if anything I'd say George was the one showing signs of infatuation, Lukas was his normal self among nobility, very self-assured but still polite and well-spoken.

He greeted both me and Paul with a kiss, and a private wink that promised a tall tale in the privacy of our own home. George poured them both a cup of coffee, and of course they each took a slice of pie was well, then sat down for the news.

Now, Paul mentioned the deaths of women and children in a factory downstream, preceded by the demise of large numbers of fish in the same area. 'Could it be that this factory is dumping waste in the river, poisoning it downstream?' he asked out loud.

George answered: 'Of course it is possible, but one would have to prove it to the council before measures could be taken. Do you know that one member of the city council is a mage? Of a different discipline, but still a mage.'

'I most certainly did not know that,' Paul admitted, 'maybe we can go there for help. But first we need to get those photographs, I don't think we can wait on the council to step in, by then trees and faeries are dead. I say we still get the photographs and free the faeries tonight, then see if we can get evidence and support to close it or at least sanitise it.

That may take weeks, the faeries don't have that much time. And besides, they are a source of magic, freeing them will leave the owner severely limited in his evil plotting.'

We all agreed that the faeries should be freed tonight, and that if at all possible, we would take a look at that pool of something on the terrain, it was very shady and might have something to with the deaths downstream.

And somewhere this week I'd take Paul to the council house, and we'd try to find the mage there, especially if there was evidence of pollution from the factory.

Now George wanted to address the greenhouse, they had come to the conclusion that they wanted to accept Paul's offer to build it together with me. They wanted us to draw up a rough sketch, and an estimate of the costs involved.

I felt thrilled and nervous at the same time. This meant I could really start a business with Paul, but it also meant the responsibility would be mostly mine. I decided I would save my insecurities for Paul to address during dinner, and I left it to Paul to thank the couple for the opportunity.

'And if it turns out well,' George said, 'Ilsa had a plan as well, for a more public place on a site in the city.'

Lukas said cheekily: 'We've heard of it, daring plan.' George gave him a playful cuff around the ears, saying: 'She told me it was your idea in the first place.'

Laughing, Lukas had to admit to this, and Paul shook his head theatrically: 'You realise he has hoofs and horns, don't you George? He'll lead all of you into temptation.' George clearly thought this hilariously funny, and replied: 'Thanks for the warning Paul, but I'm afraid I'm already lost. Better save yourselves.'

'And lose the chance to earn some good hard money? No way!' was Paul's comment.

But suddenly he was serious again, asking George: 'You know Melissa here has guardian potential, don't you?' George nodded and said: 'I can see it, too. She's developing quickly, you're a good teacher, Paul.'

'Maybe too quickly,' Paul said, 'she unconsciously reached out for a ley-line today, instead of using my personal power, and she didn't even notice the difference until I contacted her mind and she recalled she hadn't felt the bond earlier.

Her fireball was perfect, her control excellent. Is that safe? Have you heard of mages using ley-lines this early?' Both Frances and George agreed that if I could control the power, it was all right to use it, but to be really careful not to accidentally touch a node.

'That reminds me, Paul,' George said, 'thanks for taking the shield off Lukas from a distance, it was...interesting.' Paul smiled: 'I thought you might think so, he can put one up himself if he wants to, and if that didn't work you were there with him.'

'It was so interesting, we have a question for you: would you agree to let me take on his training in the arts? His talent is unique, and I have more experience with different kinds of magic. Not his exactly, so there will be a lot of experimenting involved, and of course both of you will be involved deeply, but I'd like to get to the bottom of his connection of love and magical energy.' 'So there is a connection?' Paul exclaimed.

Then: 'Is this what you want, Lukas?' Lukas nodded. 'Then I'll be happy to let you have the training of him, I already hoped you might take an interest in him, I've never had an apprentice before Melissa, you've been doing it for years. It is a once in a lifetime chance for him, you are a much more suitable teacher for his talent.'

'I'm glad to hear that,' George said, 'and I want to start by hearing both your accounts of how he came into your life, for his story doesn't quite fit with what I know of the species that abducted him and the world he originated from.'

I was amazed, I had never realised that George was so much more accomplished as a mage than Paul, I knew Paul had the greatest respect for him but he sounded positively deferential just now, and in addition it seemed as if our host knew a lot about other dimensions as well.

Paul now replied: 'I'll tell you all I know, but Melissa of course was the main witness.' I asked: 'Do you want me to tell you now?'

Sitting back as if preparing to enjoy a long story, George said confirmingly: 'If you please, it may be important, I think his family may be looking for him.' When George posed this staggering possibility I looked at Lukas to see how this idea affected him, and though I could see it was not a surprise to him as it was to us, his sweet face seemed to show a flash of intense longing followed by fear.

I decided to ask him to explain when we were back home, now I would relate the story as I had lived it. 'It started a few months ago, on one of the first days of spring. I bought a paper-maché object that looked like a mirror, framed in a gnarly branch. The mirror was not real, it was painted, and a head stuck out, looking exactly like Lukas but totally hairless and with large, curved horns.

Paul warned me that it was magical and that it might change my life and my feelings for him, I had a bad crush on him for weeks already and he told me that night that we wanted to return my love but was afraid to get hurt. That gave me hope, but I thought the talk of magic was balderdash, I had never heard of magic being real.

The man we bought it from was new to me, I'd never seen him on the market before. He was grimy, oldish, with greasy hair and a greasy beard. He thought we were married. He called it folk-art.

Paul hung it over the hearth, and he talked about it as if it was a person. That night I woke up from a crashing noise coming from the living-room.

I went there to investigate and saw nothing, except the mirror-like thing, lying on the floor face up, but without the head and the hand, I forgot to tell you, there was a hand sticking out as well. I put the mirror on the table, face up again. I kind of expected the creature to be in the room with me, thinking Paul had known it would come out, that it was a kind of test.

The thought didn't frighten me. Listening carefully I heard a sound behind the hearth, and saw a bit of mottled skin behind it. I stroked it, feeling sorry for a creature that felt the need to hide from me. It shivered, but after a while a bit of horn showed and a bit more skin. It was hurt.

When I called him as if he were a stray dog or cat, he jumped on my lap, held on to me, his back was sticky with blood and he felt really emaciated and cold. After some time I had to get up, my legs were buckling, he got up too and was as tall as a man, and clearly a man, frighteningly thin and very scared.

He gestured me to put away the mirror, and with gestures asked me to wrap it in a black cloth, and keep it upside down. He was very afraid of it.

I gave him some bread and cheese to eat and some water to drink, cleaned the wounds and gave him a shirt to put on over the wounds and to stay warm. We exchanged names, so I knew he could talk, but not in a language I knew.

Then I took him to bed with me, he looked so forlorn and cold, where else could I have put him? He crawled close to me and fell asleep immediately. The next morning, he tried to make love to me without my consent and I stopped him and became very angry.

He was under the bed in a heartbeat, shivering in fear. I felt sorry and called for him. He jumped on my lap again, and I explained I was still a virgin, and that he had to ask before he did that. He asked, and I consented.

His attempt had felt really good, I wanted to make love sometimes, and I realised that waiting on Paul would take a very long time. Besides, somehow I knew he needed it badly, needed it to live. So he very carefully made love to me for my first time ever.

It was good, I wasn't sorry. We could communicate now, he spoke his language and I mine, and I just knew what he'd said. You knew too, didn't you?'

I looked at Lukas and he nodded, clearly deeply touched by my remembrance of our first meeting. In a thick voice he said: 'I could understand you. But to be honest, I don't remember very much of that first meeting, you describe me as someone hardly rational, a starved and much abused animal-like man, and I think I must have been just that.

My reactions seem to have been very primal, I can usually control my urges.' 'But you were very polite, and your voice in my head was even eloquent, not brutish. And your lovemaking was tender, considerate. You were not a beast. You may have been in a dream-like state, but you were not like a starving animal.

Making love improved you a lot, isn't that true?' Lukas nodded again: 'I remember more after that, you left me and I hid in the shower room.' I nodded. 'I had an appointment with Paul for a magic lesson, and I was a bit ashamed I had made love an unknown creature whilst I was so much in love with him.

Still, I told him everything. He was shocked by a real person coming out of a piece of art, he had expected the magic to loosen me up, start going out, date other men. And he was more shocked when I told him about the loving, but though I felt ashamed, I didn't regret it, I knew it had been important.

Paul came with me to check on Lukas, he was gone, hidden, Paul found him easily, I went to him, he had seen Paul's magic with sight. Paul heard him speak and spoke back in Greek. They could communicate with language, I still did with, feelings, I guess.

The next days Lukas and I made love often, he still seemed to need it badly. Paul taught him metal crafts by day. His condition improved and he learned English fast. He really hated it that Paul repressed his feelings for me, and clearly had totally different customs than us.

But we've grown a lot closer since then, I knew Lukas would see other people, but I got together with Paul and have been ever since. Lukas and him have grown closer too, Lukas loved Paul from early on, but Paul needed more time. We share a lot now.'

Paul, looking almost grey again, swallowed once, hard, then spoke up: 'I was very, very jealous all the time. It made me act, made me forward. Melissa would probably have given up on me if Lukas hadn't made me so jealous.

But I loved him as well, it was difficult. And I want to add, that I wrapped the mirror in black velvet sprinkled with salt water with rowan-extract, and put it away in the deepest, darkest cabinet in my cellar. If you want to examine it, you can come visit or take it home with you.

Can you please sit with me?' This to me, in a pleading voice that wrenched my heart. I sat on his lap, held him, reached out with my mind to share my boundless love for him.

He accepted the touch and we sat in report until he revived a little. What was it with him, he still seemed so insecure, and vulnerable.

Having caught my question, he said, softly: 'Yesterday with Lukas, I relived my loneliness as a child with my uncaring parents, and as a young man, when my sister stopped loving me, and my new family was lost to me. Those memories are now still there, but distant.

The memories of loving you so desperately and seeing you with another man, not understanding the nature of your connection to him, those memories are still fresh and very painful.

I'm still so very much afraid to lose you. I'm afraid the strong bossy man you fell in love with was just a role I played, this scared, vulnerable boy may be the real me.'

Now, Lukas seemed to come to life, and clearly saying: 'Nonsense,' he came towards us. I gave up my place on Paul's knees to him, though I did hold on to Paul's hand and his mind. Lukas now kissed Paul on the lips, until Paul gave in and returned the kiss wholeheartedly.

I could literally feel Lukas' talent at work again, removing the pain and the doubts out of his past from his more recent memories. It was done quickly, Paul didn't really suffer from these memories anymore, being reminded of the events just raked them up once more.

But since we were going out to hunt tonight, he could not afford to be distracted or weakened by memories or doubt. Lukas just speeded things up. Lukas lost energy at the normal rate, but it was replenished as quickly as it was pulled out of him.

That was interesting. Now Lukas' shield came up again, his own shield, and he took Paul's head by the jaws firmly, then said to him: 'You are a strong bossy man, that is your nature, make no mistake.' Then he embraced Paul, laying his head on his shoulder for a while, and relinguished his seat back to me. Back on Paul's lap I just felt very content, very secure.

Now George, having witnessed Lukas' talent in action, was very much interested, that was easy to see, but he controlled himself admirably, and said: 'I will contemplate what you told me, and I do want to see that mirror.

I have a working theory that I want to check. Those abductors are an alien race that does nothing for fun, they only work for money. Someone must have payed them to abduct Lukas to their world, and his home-world can easily connect to theirs and back.

Lukas was not treated well, but he was not tortured either. Just starved of love and food, his innate power taken away from him and a beating now and then. No mutilations, death threats, real torture. Your father has some nasty enemies, I guess they'd just kill you and dump your body in a hole somewhere, why bother hiring expensive mercenaries to rough you up a little?

What caused you to lose so much consciousness that you behaved as instinctively as you did until you gained your energy back by making love.

I put it to you, Lukas, that something drained your magical power totally, and that thing, a portal between our world and the mercenaries'. Why would a portal appear just at the moment you needed one most? I dare state that it was not coincidence, that your escape was planned by the person who hired you abducted, namely your father, and that accidentally it came out on our world instead of your own.

It was meant to bring you back home with a talent, but it got you lost in a different dimension instead.

Now it was Lukas' turn to relive memories, and wonder how his own father could ever put him through such abuse and despair. And I was happy that he turned to us for comfort, though it was as incomprehensible to me that someone would do that to his own son.

His dazed look reminded me of the abused creature behind my hearth, and I opened my arms in welcome and said: 'Come'. He was in my arms in a fraction of a second, and in Paul's as well as a natural consequence of my sitting on his lap.

'But why would he do that?' was Lukas' heartrending question.

'Fear and exposure, as well as physical and mental exhaustion have been known to awaken latent magical talents. Self preservation, so to say. Could you pick up feelings before you went through that ordeal?' George asked.

Lukas anwered: 'No I couldn't. And I couldn't heal myself by making love. And I couldn't mentally communicate with people speaking another language either. I could only hide really well.'

George said: 'I'm sorry, Lukas. They probably didn't mean to strand you in a dimension vitually impossible to reach. The chances of being found are still incredibly slim.'

Now Lukas sounded really hurt and angry: 'Don't count on it, my father is a god. He can achieve quite a lot of impossible things. Apparently even give his worthless son magic, no matter what the cost.'

Of course we looked at him to see if he meant that statement. 'Yes, I said my father is a god. Hermes. Messenger of the gods, fastest thing on our world. I knew I was a disgrace to him, but not to what extent, or to what lengths he'd go to remedy it. If he wants to, he will find me, and he'll take me back, in chains if necessary. Please don't let him take me.'

With this plea my indomitable goat-man turned into a miserable heap of near-humankind, tearing my heart out in his sadness and fear. Paul and I enclosed him in our arms, ready to protect him from his greatest fear, his own father.

But George was not so certain of his approaching doom: 'Lukas, there are a million worlds and as many dimensions, how is he ever going to find you?

There is no clue near that hole of where you went, no place to start searching. Don't worry, I didn't mean to upset you so much, I'm sorry.'

He looked at Lukas helplessly, I supposed he was stunned how fear of his father could reduce his self-assured lover to a scared boy in a second. Of course, George had probably forgotten that both Lukas and Paul were still very young, only a few years older than his son, whom I had already concluded was still very much a boy.

And even older, self-sufficient boys needed their mother sometimes, which Frances realised all too well.

She said: 'Let's all have another cup of coffee, and another slice of this lovely pie. Lukas, I'm sure George is right, he has studied travel between dimensions and it is very difficult. Even a god will find himself challenged with such odds, and as gods are not used to adversity, he'll probably give you up for lost, most likely has already. After turning your captors into frogs for failing their assignment.'

And to be sure, Lukas looked up, smiling at the image of those horned devils reduced to frogs: 'They'd improve in looks.' Frances retorted: 'And in taste, especially to herons and storks.'

The grim atmosphere was broken, the guys were back to their usual selves. We couldn't stay in one chair in a heap if we wanted coffee and pie, so we sat in a chair each, but we did keep a close mental contact.

Sometimes a person just needed that, whatever their age or the profession of their father. A god! That meant Lukas was half a god, but he wasn't that special, maybe a god wasn't either if one didn't worship him.

I made a solemn vow to myself, that I'd learn all the magic I could as fast as I could, and that if Lukas' dad ever turned up in a mean mood, he'd have to get past me to get at my lover.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

All those memories and emotions had left me hungry, and I enjoyed the coffee and pie. Then we confirmed a time to free the faeries and left for home, eager to be together, or maybe to do some physically demanding work in the guys' case.

With the bicycles and Lukas running we were home within ten minutes, a bit early for dinner, so the guys indeed wanted to put some more work in. I finished my calculations quickly, emptying my mind in the process, and went downstairs to watch them work.

They both seemed to have their equilibrium back, and I asked : 'Lukas, can you work and talk at the same time?' His answer was exactly as I hoped: 'With this job, sure, what is it?'

I exclaimed: 'Come on, Lukas! You promised us all the sordid details! Must I beg you to speak up? How was it?'

He clearly loved being asked, and he started to tell us: 'After running around the property, I went to the house sweating profusely, to ask George to take a swim with me.

I said: 'Hi George, I've been for my daily run, and I'm planning a trip to the lake to cool down, care to join me for a swim?' I stood just a teeny bit in his personal space, to see if my smell would turn him on, and I guess it did, for he seemed to sample it for some time.

Then he answered: 'My, you smell enticing. And yes, I'd love to go swimming with you, let me change quickly and get some towels, and we can go.'

'Change into what?' I asked for I seriously didn't know, and he said: 'Well my bathing suit of course.' I must have looked a sight, for he laughed and asked: 'You don't use a bathing suit?' and I confessed I always swam naked, had never even seen clothes meant for swimming in.

I said: 'It must be really uncomfortable, wet clothes on your body.' He said: 'You're right, I'll just get the towels then.' And I commented: 'Why not make that one large one?' He looked at me in a strange way, strode away, and came back with a towel under his arm.

We sauntered off, said goodbye to Frances, and had a nice short walk across the grounds. I walked without shoes, and George seemed intrigued by the way I moved, he kept staring at the ground.

Soon we were at the lake, and we undressed, and I looked him over really well, and said: 'You are a very good looking man, George. I know people say clothing makes the man, and you dress really well, but you really don't need clothes to look very attractive.'

He was checking me out too, but he still seemed rather embarrassed at my frankness and said, not exactly shyly, but clearly not entirely at ease: 'I'm old enough to be your father, Lukas.'

I said bluntly: 'You look nothing like my father.' He sputtered: 'I mean, you're Ilsa's age, and you love women.'

Taking a step toward him, I said: 'I've loved men before, George, and you're beautiful and experienced. Let's swim.' I dived in, and swam strongly, I could see he was attracted, then Paul's shield was gone suddenly and I could feel his attraction as well. George, seeing the shield vanish, came swimming towards me. I had instinctively put up a shield of my own, and he looked at it critically.

He said: 'You've learned a lot Lukas, that is a very nice shield. What happened?' I replied: 'Thanks, Paul taught me the day after my talent woke, but he's kept a shield on me himself because it is so vital to my life. I guess he wanted to give me the chance to become really intimate, knowing you could protect me from being drained.'

George nodded and checked my shield with a little bit of bright force. He said: 'Paul has taught you well. I see a little weak spot here, and here, can you see them too?' I checked and found them. He gave tips to prevent them, I practiced them until I had mastered the technique. He observed: 'You are a very apt pupil. Your talent interests me.'

I didn't want him to be interested in my talent though, so I dismissed the shield and closed the distance between us, and said: 'I've dismissed the shield, I want to feel really close to you. Do you mind?'

I could feel his desire for me, but like you Paul, he can totally turn off his feelings so they don't show in his face and voice, and he asked seemingly dryly: 'Won't that drain your energy dangerously low?' I replied: 'Of course it will, but you can give me enough energy to stay safe, can't you?'

The idea of sharing such incredibly intimacy with me caused lust to flare up in him, but the handsome face spoke: 'But Lukas, that would create an intimacy between us that I most certainly would not be able to deny. Do you realise that?'

Of course I knew that, I could feel his exitement rising by the second, but apparently he didn't realise that I could see right through him without my shield. He thought I took him on face value, and his face said something totally different from his feelings.

I can't do that, that must be something you guys learn growing up here. Anyway, I had him where I wanted him, so I decided to go for the kill.

I closed the remaining distance between us, clutched him in my arms and legs, and kissed him full on the mouth. He couldn't but answer that kiss, he lost his self-control, his body took over. And oh, when you controlled types lose it you have such fervor, such intensity.

He nearly overwhelmed my mind with his feelings, he'd ached to touch me since I'd healed his daughter and he saw me on the bed, exhausted and naked.

Believe me, I didn't need any of his magical energy to make up for the cost of the empathy, his passion alone made me crackle with power. I think the trick is not to think about it, just to let it happen.

Through our physical bond he picked up my amazement first, then the near miraculous restoration of my magical energy. He broke the kiss immediately and asked: 'What just happened? Did you really restore all the energy your empathy took by kissing me?'

I replied: 'I think it was the intensity of your feelings towards me that did it. The kiss was just the connection that brought the full strength of your feelings to bear.' He stared at me: 'You could feel my desire for you the whole time?' I nodded: 'When Paul took off the shield I instinctively replaced it with my own, but when I took that off your feelings were an open book to me.

You are really good at keeping them from your face and voice, like Paul. Is that education?'

'Don't distract me, Lukas, I'm trying to think this through. I suppose it is a combination of fitting into society and learning offensive magic, that takes a lot of control.

So you can feel all that I feel when you are without shield?' I nodded.

'And when I kissed you and the full force of my desire hit you, all the energy that your empathy had taken from you since you dropped the shields was restored to you?' That summed it up quite neatly, so I replied: 'Exactly. But just catching stray feelings doesn't take much energy. It's influencing them, like healing trauma, that pulls it out of me fast. Don't know what could keep up with that.'

He contemplated what I had said, not minding my holding on to him and stroking his chest and his short greying hair, I must add, and said: 'I guess making love to Ilsa supplied some energy, but not enough to make up for the cost of her healing.

It may have saved your life, though, her melancholia was way too profound to be your first healing ever. I guess if you had built up the intensity of the healings slowly, combining them with making love, you would not have suffered reaction shock.

Reaction shock is trauma to your body that is caused by overspending magical energy. Your life force is converted to magical energy, and that can cause headaches, unconsciousness and ultimately, death.'

I informed him: 'Paul told me about the risks, but once a person is suffering it is hard for me not to act. I feel their hurt.'

Now I thought there had been enough talking, so I kissed him deeply, stirring his feelings again, and this time he didn't even try to school his face anymore, he just let his desire and lust show on his handsome face.

Of course he couldn't keep quiet even then, and asked: 'Will you allow me to take up your training? I find your talent intriguing and I'd love to explore it with you.' Not a hint of lust in that, just serious interest.

I replied: 'You may, if Paul agrees, I wouldn't hurt him for the world.' Curiosity, a new feeling, George was dying to know how far my bond with you went. I decided to tell him, but not then. I wanted my prey brought down, and brought down soon. I decided I had to take a firmer hand. As George wanted to speak again, I kissed him into silence, and I led him from the water into the nice warm air. I guessed that seeing my differences displayed before him would interest him in my body again, instead of my mind.

And I was right, he now felt free to openly stare at my penis, still half-raised despite his chattering. Then of course he noticed the tail, and like every one of you poor, tail-less humans he wanted to touch it and asked if he might.

I was not going to allow him the same liberties I gave you, so I took charge straight away and said: 'If you kneel beside me you may touch it, fondle it, I'll even flick it for you.' If anything, my bossy tone turned him on, and he went to his knees readily.

He laid his cheek against the cheek of my butt, and first touched my tail, then fondled it. He kissed both cheeks, put his face between them and licked, I'll tell you that set my tail to flicking all by itself. He laid his head back against it, and ran his hands over my legs very firmly, enjoying the feel of the muscles developing there.

I wanted to touch him too, his stomach still firm, his chest still much broader than his flanks, his firm legs and strong feet, so I got on my knees too, then laid down with him. We kissed, and touched eachother, until we were both too hot to handle.

But I managed to control myself, took him into the lake again where I floated him like you did me yesterday, and with my mouth I gave him the best high ever, I could feel it in his mind. Then I couldn't control myself anymore and I took him, carefully at fist, you know because of my size, but he could clearly handle it, and wanted more, so I gave him all I got, right there in the lake, him still floating with me holding on to him, my hoofs planted firmly in the mud.

He still had something of lust left in him after that, so we got out again, and I allowed him to feel my hoofs, and my hocks, and we explored several other attributes all men have, and he loved mine and I his. Next time I'll tell him about the horns, he never thought of them. Good, I like to be normal.'

I seriously couldn't see in his face if he meant that, but I do think he was sarcastic. He continued his tale:

'Then we rested a little, and he asked how long I already had magic. And I told him about my life in my dimension of Greece, where I didn't have any at all, just the ability to hide well, but I couldn't control that.

Then the captivity, where I hid in plain sight, nearly succeeding. I told him about my captors, and finding the hole in the rock right after they'd beaten and shaven me, and landing in a room.

I must say I don't remember much of the first few days, just the fear, the cold, and sitting with you for the first time, you were sweet to me, gave me food, warmth and company. I remember your sudden anger, my fear at not knowing what I had done wrong.

Of course you took pity on me and gave me the reason for your anger afterwards, and I remember loving you for the first time like it was yesterday. I told George what I think now: that since going through the portal I felt emotions of people I knew and that making love somehow gave me a lot of energy.

Also, we understood one another without speaking eachother's language. He told me straight away he didn't think I'd been abducted by enemies but by my own father, and you have seen yourself how that thought frightened me, still does.'

He looked at us now, and asked us: 'I want to stay with you, please don't let anyone take me!'

Now, Paul spoke the exact thought I'd had: 'Dearest Lukas, I'm not helpless in matters of magic, and I can innovate weapons as well as every day objects. If your dad does indeed find this dimension and offers you harm of any kind, he will find me on his path.'

'And me,' I said, 'I may only be an apprentice now, but I will do my damnedest to learn quickly. We're not his worshipers, he might find us harder to crack than you'd expect.' And with that Lukas seemed to take a little heart, and he went back to work until it was time to prepare dinner.

During dinner we tried to shape our plan to get the photographs from the factory. We decided to go in after the last shift had left, to prevent innocents from getting hurt, and also to have as few witnesses as possible.

The factory always shut down at sundown, which was around ten at this time of the year. As the building held no real valuables, we did not expect it to be really well-protected. 'How do we know whether we have all the photographs?' I asked.

Lukas replied: 'According to Frances, Jonas had sold six plates to the same buyer, and I've seen three of the ones she described in the factory. I hope the rest will be there too, you may find them with your sight, I suppose we should also bring any other objects that you recognise as containing a soul.'

Paul said: 'I haven't used a lot of magic in your presence yet, but that will change tonight. I am planning to just force my way in with magic, follow Lukas to the office where the plates are, find the remaining three by using more magic, take all six of them, move out and free the faeries, check the wasteland for pollution with still more magic.

If we want to be careful, Melissa can check every fence and every room for magic wards, which I will disable with magic. There is a ley-line near enough for me to reach, and if needed I have permission to use the Nomes' node. My magical energy has no limits tonight, I can set the sky alight with it.

The only problem will be to avoid being identified. We want to set the law on the owner of the factory for poisoning the water, so we may not be recognized or we'll be arrested as criminals ourselves.' He looked really determined and quite fearsome, I was sure he'd blast that black mage right from existence if he met him.

No sign of the boy there anymore, this was a guardian taking charge of his territory, ruthless and with force if necessary. Lukas eyed him curiously, and remarked: 'That's as good a plan as any, and I love fireworks, so let's wait until sundown and go get those photographs.

And though I would have liked to plan some more, say for contingencies, I realized that guys my age worked just fine without a clear plan, so I acceded to Paul's leadership. He seemed very sure of himself, and I knew I tended to see too many sides of things. An engineer's trait, I guessed, but this was not construction, rather the opposite.

After washing up we whiled away the few hours until sundown in the workshop, Lukas and Paul charging Lukas' eye-shaped focus. I was not going to wear gold to a raid and I said so to Paul, and he laughed and retorted that I no longer had any use for a focus, I could take as much energy as I needed from him, even in a fight he'd recognize my touch and not be distracted by it.

And there was always the ley-line next to the plant. All his doubts seemed forgotten, he was almost overconfident by now.


	33. Chapter 33

chapter 33

At sundown we left on foot, mostly dressed in black. I was wearing women's trousers, I was not going to be hindered by the excess fabric of a skirt or a dress.

My hair was tamed in a tight braid then rolled up and pinned securely to my head, and covered with a black scarf.

Paul had no weapons, he would rely totally on magic for his defense, but Lukas wore a nasty looking knife in his belt, and he went barefoot. He wanted to be able to use his hoofs to kick, I guess, so no shoes.

Still, Lukas looked his normal self even openly carrying a weapon, but Paul, he looked positively scary in his concentrated determination. He would not need protection in the run-down neighborhood, anyone meeting his eyes would scurry for a hiding-place, although it would probably be pitch dark in the area since there was no street lighting there.

'Will we need lamps to see where we are going?' I asked. Lukas shook his head and replied: 'It will draw attention to us, if you use your sight you will be able to use the glow of the living things to see by. That works better outside the city, but it was good enough for me yesterday.'

We were in the middle of the slum when I felt something watching us, and I nudged Paul again, asking: 'Those friends of yours again?' He shook his head, said: 'Didn't contact them, better be on our guard.'

His air didn't change, but of course he was totally set for action already. We walked on stoically, but I didn't see much and the feeling of being followed made me a little nervous.

Suddenly I felt myself being grabbed from behind, I couldn't see a thing, and cried out in alarm. As my mind worked frantically to think of a way to free myself, I saw the street in front of me light up, not as bright as day, but brighter than street lighting.

Now I could clearly see Paul, for he was the centre of the light, he glowed with power even to normal sight, and six burly guys blocking our path stood blinking, eyes used to the dark trying to adjust to the brilliance, still holding clubs and pipes, clearly out for trouble.

Lukas was not to be seen, I couldn't hear him either, until the guy holding me got struck with a thump, groaned in pain and released me. I immediately readied a fireball, not taking the time to find a ley-line but using my own energy.

It made the street even brighter, and it seemed to put quite a scare into our assailants, who had seen their comrade fall, but had not seen an attacker. Another footpad got struck from the dark behind him, and doubled up in pain.

The rest of the group was now looking for a way out of the circle, we were clearly not the easy prey they held us for, not worth the effort. I didn't want to throw the fireball at them, it might set them on fire and they didn't seem much of a threat anymore, so I merely pulled my arm back and aimed it at them.

Paul brightened even further, until they couldn't look at him anymore. Then a sinister voice spoke from the dark: 'Be ye gone!'

The men still standing turned as one and fled. I lobbed the fireball after them, heard them cry out in fear, and in its light I saw them pick up speed and disappear into the dark. Paul quickly dispelled the light, and I felt him and Lukas contact me in the dark.

'You all right?' asked Paul, and Lukas said: 'Great fireball, very impressive!' I replied: 'I'm fine, and thank you.'

Lukas asked Paul: 'You practicing for godhood?' and Paul retorted: 'Just burning off some excess energy. You practicing for demonhood?'

I heard Lukas' voice laugh, and he said: 'Sorry, I seem to have mislaid my horns only recently.'

We walked on in great spirits, we had countered an unexpected attack successfully and in total unity, a good preparation for an in-and-out raid on a factory owned by an evil mage. In the pitch dark, the wasteland was less depressing, though not a lot.

I was getting used to walking on sight only, and in the wasteland it was easier than in the city, though in the dark that unhealthy phosphorecent pool seemed to give off a light of its own, adding to the erieness of the deserted ground. There was no sign of larger life in the area, probably all fast asleep.

Soon we were standing in front of the factory, and I checked it with sight openly, knowing the black mage owner had no sight of his own to discover me doing it, even if he were on the premises. There was a ward on the whole fence surrounding the factory, it actually seemed as if the huge building was wrapped in a large Christmas bow with a rather complicated knot.

I alerted Paul to it, but of course he had already spotted it, it was so large and the colour was hideous, a sickly red. Paul looked at it in revulsion and told us: 'That hideous red hue is typical of stolen magic, I'm afraid the aura is tinged with blood magic, not just that of stolen souls.

This black mage may be more dangerous than I'd thought, though his ward speaks of a singular lack of creativity. I'm going to unravel it, watch how I do it.'

So Lukas and I watched with sight, and saw him slowly and very gently untangle the complicated knot, revulsion at the touch of the vile magic clearly visible in all his features. No alarm sounded, not in the real world nor in the magical sense.

When the ward dissipated after the knot was untangled, he had his hand on the lock immediately. He let us watch again, and unlocking it was a matter of moving the mechanism with magic rather than a key.

Of course one needed to be able to see inside the lock to do that, but both Lukas and me could do that. The lock also gave way to Paul's magic, he was still glowing with it, but only to sight now, and it seemed to me he was still using his own internal energy.

I asked: 'Why don't you use ley-line power, won't this weaken you slowly?'

He was surprised I'd checked, and replied: 'We know this mage is not sensitive to magic energy, but using power from outside my own stash gives off a clearly visible sign, so I'd rather not do that until my own reserves are emptied.'

I hadn't known that, that would make having a focus handy after all, unless that would show up too. I asked, and Paul replied that energy from a focus was personal and not visible from the outside. I was thrilled to see him use so much magic, and show us how it worked as he did it. This raid was turning into a field-trip pretty quickly, and it was fun to see him use magic to remove every obstacle in our way.

Lukas went in first, and we followed, closing the door behind us. Paul even set his own ward on it, not leaving anything to chance. His was blue, and quite beautiful, looking like a well-forged chain of interlocked human hands.

Somehow, breaking in to the factory was exiting rather than scary, I followed Lukas and Paul was behind me, so I felt quite safe. The door to the factory itself was locked, but not for long. I thought Lukas would probably find some uses soon for this newly found skill.

Within minutes we were crossing the hall with the machines, it was huge, though in the dark it was difficult to see exactly how high the roof was. I checked everything with sight, using Paul's energy to save my own and not give us away to spying eyes with sight, and so he'd be able to see what I saw through the connection of our minds.

The machinery was normal, everything seemed normal until one door glowed in the sickly red colour of corrupted magic, it had a ward on it. I wanted to have a closer look with a bit of normal light, but Paul asked to first free the faeries, so we moved on for now.

We were across the hall in a few minutes and Lukas opened the door to the office-area. Stepping inside, he took a turn to the right, he knew exactly where to go. We did not check out the other offices, apparently Lukas was convinced all the photographs would be in the owner's office. I continued to look about me with sight, but nothing weird showed up.

Lukas now waited before a door, and asked me to double check it. I didn't see a ward either, so he opened the door and went in. Paul created a light, and soon the guys had collected four plates with photographs of trees off the walls.

Checking in a general way with sight I found a fifth, and then we could do nothing but check all the closets and drawers for the sixth plate and any other objects that might contain souls.

Paul soon came across the altar, and with the same revulsion as when he beheld the sickly red power signature, he told us he'd destroy it just before we left. The owner would certainly feel that and raise the alarm, so we needed to get out quickly after that.

I was searching a closet when Lukas called for us, I turned around and saw him standing next to an open closet, looking in. He pointed at another plate, asking: 'Is that one of them, it seems magical, but I'm not sure?' It seemed part of a construction, another kind of altar, and I didn't dare to touch it like that, it seemed warded as well as clearly holding a soul.

Paul came over and told us that this was the soul currently in use to power the mage. The photograph could not be saved, the plate would have to be destroyed to set the soul free.

So we continued our search, found two statues that might possibly contain souls as well. We didn't take a good look at any of them, just shoved them in the bags with the photographs, Lukas and me both carrying one bag with several objects. Paul now started with the photograph in the closet, reducing it to ashes with what seemed to be pure magic power.

Then he went on quickly to the altar, but that didn't give in as easily. As he hit it with raw power, black tendrils came out of it and attacked him. It looked really dangerous, but Paul didn't even twitch and continued his destructive task. The tendrils latched on to him, but couldn't find a hold, they tried his face, his neck, but soon the altar was ashes as well, and the tendrils dropped to the ground, writhing, until they, too, were ashes.

Job done, Paul wiped his forehead as if he had been casting a difficult ornament, then came towards us and signaled to leave. In the hall we met our first resistance, apparently there was a night-watch after all, because two men in uniforms tried to stop us.

Lukas kicked the first, hard on the leg, and the guy dropped like a stone, leg no longer able to support him. The other stood frozen, and I saw Paul fire a ball of raw power at him, visible only in the magical range.

The guy clearly didn't see it coming, and when it hit him he dropped like a stone, clutching his head. I made a mental note to ask Paul how to do that, it seemed much more appropriate to stun a person than to singe him with fireballs.

We rushed on, but we still had that warded door to check, and as we drew closer to it, I started to feel the source of Paul's revulsion myself. This was an abject form of power, it felt of great suffering. Paul removed the ward from the door as carefully as the first ward and as quickly.

Lukas opened the door first and nearly buckled, his face aguished as he moaned: 'I can't stand it, the feelings rush me, there is someone suffering down there.'

Paul caught him and explained: 'It's your empathy, you're picking up every emotion down there. Do you want to stay back or shall I show you how to reinforce your shield?'

'I need to come with you, please help me to shut it out,' he replied. A moment of contact between Paul and Lukas, and Lukas' expression became slightly less pained, and in another moment he was able to go on. Of course it didn't bode well for what we were going to find behind that door, and that proved to be entirely true.

We took a deep breath and stepped beyond the door, Paul in the lead.

There was a short corridor, with doors on either side and a door at the end. All the doors had barred windows, and what we saw through the windows defied description: each room was a cell, with one or more children on the edge of puberty in them.

They were asleep in a tight heap or keeping an anxious eye on the door, feeling our presence. We checked all the windows, and concluded there must be nine or ten children in total, and every single one had a strong magical talent on the verge of developing.

To my surprise Paul didn't try to free them. I asked him why, and he said: 'If someone is here, there will be a fight, and they'll be safer in those cells.' Wheras Lukas was still suffering with the fear and the desperation that clung to the very walls here, Paul was getting very angry, which I could understand very well.

This was his quarter, children were mistreated under his very nose, and he hadn't had an idea it was going on. Who knew for how long this black mage had been at his perversions, cunningly hiding his evil practices for years from Paul's elderly predecessor by a cunning spell that hid his magic from guardian powers.

Well, not anymore, I could easily see that. I realised that if all children here had talent, the mage was probably harvesting their powers for his own use! I knew Paul knew, so I didn't say it out loud, instead we advanced on the door at the end of the hall. I could feel the horrible thing that was going on in there right through the door.

Someone was in terrible pain, and a nauseating presence was working magic. Paul didn't stop for a heartbeat, a single burst of controlled magic splintered the door and he strode right in. I put up and extra shield and looked behind me how Lukas was doing. He was holding up, though barely, face determined, knife out.

As our eyes adjusted to the gloom, we saw a larger altar with a teenage child bound to it, clearly in agony but not physically, mentally. A robed figure was moving sinuously in front of it, and I could see clean, blue power flowing out of the child, not into the black mage, but into a kind of large black stone.

The child screamed again, and Paul called out a challenge to the mage, it was spoken in a strange language, I guessed Latin, and as he spoke he erected a blue shield over both the mage and himself. The child stopped screaming instantly, cries fading to whimpers, and Lukas was with it, her, in a few steps.

Dropping his shields he touched the girl, free to use his talent to relieve her suffering, but he would need power to do so. Paul was out of reach, and the need for hiding was over, I could not imagine anyone condoning this demonic practice.

So I reached out for the nearest power-source and nearly vomited in abject disgust. The power I had inadvertently touched was the filthy perverted stolen power, harvested by the black mage and stored in what was supposed to be a node.

But no mere human, let alone a mage with no power of his own, could build a node, and the result was a sloppy and leaky pit filled with vile stolen power. I realised that this was the source of the phosphorecent patch in the wasteland, and the reason this mage kept that land in desolation: he had heard of mages using node-power and wanted such a convenient store of magical energy for himself.

The magical power leaking out of his perversion of a node was spilling into the river, undoubtedly killing the fish and even humans along its course downstream.

Drawing back in disgust, I knew I needed to find another source quickly, for Lukas would not last long without energy, his talent would start devouring his life-force.

Reaching out a little further, I found a ley-line with clean power, and I accessed it and touched Lukas to feed him the clean power. His state was not as bad as I'd feared since his focus had supplied quite a lot of energy.

Still he accepted what I offered gladly, and once our link was established I didn't need to spend lot of concentration on keeping him fed. I started to look around how Paul was doing, and whether we were still safe in this hell-hole. Within the shield, fireworks were already in full swing.

I could see Paul standing opposite the evil mage, sickly red fireballs dripping off his blue tinged shield-within-shield. It clearly held easily, and the returning blue bolt encompassed the red tinged shield totally, fraying the edges already.

Apparently, Paul was holding his own, so I checked how Lukas was doing. The girl had stopped projecting agony, the worst pain seemed to have stopped as Paul distracted the mage draining her, and she was now holding tightly to her savior, as Lukas was trying to get some sense out of her.

'Do you know how the doors to the cells open?' he asked her. She nodded, and he continued: 'Can you be very strong for a moment yet, wake your brothers and sisters out there and set them free, then lead them outside?

When this is over we will talk again, and you can tell me everything, and we will find your parents for you, but your captor is not beaten yet and I need to help.' She nodded again, skipped to a hook on the wall and ran off straight away.

The resilience of children was so amazing, I had a hard time believing it. But Lukas was right, this was not over yet, and we turned our attention back to the arcane battle.

Watching the magical battle going on inside the shield, it was clear the evil mage was no match for Paul's superior power and knowledge.

Paul's shield cutting off the power of his adversary, the red bolts were losing power fast, dissipating before they even reached the blue shield. Paul shrunk the shield to just hold the black mage, still cutting him off from his power and preventing him from using magic altogether.

He turned towards us, asking: 'Did you free the children? We can go outside now, this one's done working magic,' when the man caught in his shield pulled a gun out of his belt, aimed it at Paul, and shot him in the back.

Paul dropped like a stone, and as I rushed towards him, the shield capturing the mage dissipated with Paul's consciousness or even life? I didn't know.

Then, everything happened at once: the mage, torn between finishing Paul with his gun, aiming at me or contacting his digusting power again to level the three of us, hesitated for an instant, in which Lukas rammed him in the face with his rock hard head.

Dismissing the mage from my mind I clutched at the still form of the dearest thing I had on this earth, quavering with the idea of finding him dead.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

I found him alive, but unconscious and gravely hurt. The bullet had entered his back at the height of his lungs, and I knew that if one of them was hit, he'd most likely not survive.

Shutting out my gibbering fear I used my magic to feel his situation. I plunged into a living, moving stream, recognising the flow of blood from Lukas' horns, the different particles floating around. I searched for the wound, and found it, bullet still lodged inside staunching the wound for now, but it would have to be removed with all the danger of bleeding and infection.

It had fortunately missed the lung which I was thankful for, but I was way out of my depth here. I could not even repair metals yet, let alone a living being where everything moved around. My fear was rising again when I felt a comforting touch and familiar presence and Lukas was there with me. He connected himself to me and spoke softly: 'Please show me what is wrong and give me the power, I think I can help.'

I welcomed his touch and connected to the ley-line, showing him the lodged bullet and the potential for bleeding. Ripping Paul's familiar linen shirt, Lukas touched his back on both sides of the wound, and let his talent take over. He started with the bullet, slowly but inorexably working it out with magic, much like the turning of the key in the lock but way, way more careful.

As it came out, blood gushed out with it, so much of it I nearly despaired. I took off my black scarf and held it over the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. In the meantime, Lukas had repaired some of the internal damage, using the squares in the blood to knit the torn flesh together. Power was pulled out of him at an incredible speed, but I managed to keep up with it for now.

Now the bleeding slowed to a trickle, and though Paul did not regain consciousness, he did not fade either. But Lukas was totally done for. Recharging with making love was totally out of the question in the lion's den, an accomplice might turn up any moment now.

We had left the guard stunned, he might turn up, though I wondered if he'd support his employer once he knew what was happening here. I was still desperately trying to think of something to do when I heard George and Marcus call for us.

I called back, and they soon reached the room where we were. Shocked and concerned, they took in the situation, and George said with authority: 'I'll carry Paul, Marcus you support Lukas and Melissa, do you have the photographs?' I nodded, and he said: 'You take those, if you can walk. I'm taking you home in our carriage, and Marcus and Frances can free the faeries.

I was amazed to find them here, so I asked: 'How did you know we were here, what is going on out there?' Marcus answered: 'We were waiting for you to come out with the photographs, when an arcane fireworks display appeared to our sight.

We knew there was trouble, so we kept an eye on the gate, and when it was over and no-one came, we decided to go in and investigate. We saw Paul's ward on the gate, and inside the factory we were met by a band of children, tired and emotionally drained, but eager to get out.

A watchman was talking to one of them, a girl who looked marginally better, and she told him they had been held captive and abused by a man he recognised as his employer, and that three people had freed them. The presence of the children and the state they were in convinced him that something was not right, and he allowed us to go where the children directed us they had been kept.

I adviced the guardsman to send the children to my wife waiting outside, she could calm them like no-one else and keep an eye on them until their parents could fetch them or a place could be found for them. You see, they were all supremely talented, we could both see that.

By now, we were in the main part of the factory, and soon we were outside. Lukas was getting worse, he desperately needed to pay the price of the healing, and I was glad to see a carriage waiting for us in front of the building.

The situation really needed someone with authority, so George changed his plans to Marcus coming with us and him staying behind to resolve the situation, then free the faeries. It would be a long night for him, but he was certain to handle this well, he was a very important player in city matters, by reason of his title, but also as successful businessman.

Paul was lifted in the carriage, Lukas climbed in by himself, I got in after I handed over the bags with loot, and we were off. Checking on Paul I found him stable, though he was still unconscious, his pulse was strong and his breathing was normal. The bleeding had stopped altogether, though the remains of his shirt were soaked in blood.

Having assured myself he was no longer in real danger after Lukas' healing, I turned to the latter. Lukas was not hurt, he was just suffering from reaction shock, his eyes glazed and his reactions slow. I touched his mind to see if I could supply him with some energy to replenish what he had lost, and he eagerly seized the contact, but he was not lacking magical energy that could be supplied, his nerves were just overextended, his newly awakened talent had taken a lot out of him.

Before we knew it we were on our own doorstep. Marcus carried Paul to bed, then went back to the factory to help his parents. When he was gone Lukas wanted to go to bed as well, so I helped him out of his clothes and into the bed.

Thinking of making some of that restorative tea for him I got up, but Lukas reached out for me, and suddenly the full force of our connected minds hit me. We'd been too busy and distracted so far, but now things had quieted down and we both realised the intimacy of the connection our minds had. I quickly removed my trousers and shirt, and snuggled up to him, feeling his weariness as if it was my own.

We lay together in close mental contact for who knows how long, kissing slowly, feeling eachother's skin, smelling the other's scent. Slowly, I felt the intensity of our love fill up some part of him that was emptied out, and I could also feel a little life come back into him, his colour improved, his reactions speeded up. Now his attentions became a lot more intense, I could feel his need flare up, and my own answered. We kissed a lot more intently, and I sat astride him and felt for his erection, suddenly eager to feel him inside me.

Guiding him in, I felt not only the electric shock of him touching the eager hot place inside me, I also felt the warm flesh closing in on his sensitive penis, and his reaction to feeling my heat. I was like an unending circle of ecstasy, his fire and mine strengthening eachother.

I felt myself moving in and out of that incredibly good place, so warm and close, but I also felt the hard flesh touch me inside, generating electricity each time it did, the combination driving me totally insane with lust and bliss, and feeling his reaction to feeling both sides of the experience on top of it.

This rollercoaster of lust could not last, there was just too much coming in, my senses couldn't handle it, and the lust drove Lukas mad as well. He gave himself up to it, lost himself in a driving lust and thrust himself in me faster and faster, and harder and harder.

I still felt myself do that, I couldn't believe how good that felt, plunging myself in and out, feeling my muscles work overtime, breathing hard to keep up with the oxygen I used with my maniacal driving movement.

And now the elation rose and rose, in both of us, I adjusted my thrusting a tiny bit so it felt even better inside me, felt Lukas' ecstasy as if it was my own. In one explosive, mad climax we both came, crying out with exaltation, and then I crashed in total bliss on my own luscious, sated body.

We came to ourselves in total wonderment, what had just happened? I felt Lukas' hot, sweaty body on me, smelled his musk, totally weirded out and totally spent, but what an experience. I could see it had been the same for him, he still showed the total madness of that lovemaking a little on his face.

But now I saw a shade of guilt there as well, and I heard his apology and felt his shield slide between us at the same time, saw him look to the side. Paul was still there, of course, but now he was awake and he said softly: 'Don't be sorry, Lukas, I'm glad you gave in to your needs, I know the price of healing, remember? Besides, that was a damned hot sight, I wished I could have joined in.'

We reached out simultaneously, Lukas and I, though the connection between us was broken now I could still feel it in all my nerves, and we both stroked Paul's curly hair tenderly, so intensely glad he was still with us after seeing him shot, seeing him fall not knowing whether he was dead or alive. The remembrance upset me visibly, and I soon found myself being comforted from two sides.

Lukas' presence was very calming, he wrapped his arms around me and breathed in my hair, and I let my fear and shock out for a few moments with some tears.

Lukas shared them with me, he had saved his friend from the man who shot him, and from a rather serious wound, but he had feelings too, and they had been shaken as much as mine. But neither of us was the type to lose himself in feelings, and soon we felt much better.

Paul was watching us quietly, but his eyes looked a bit too glazed, I thought he might be in pain. I asked him: 'Do you need a painkiller?' He nodded, and I couldn't help kissing him, I was so happy to see him awake and alert.

And I asked in general: 'What about some of that tea, or food, or do you just want to sleep now?' Lukas laughed and said: 'All three, please, in that order,' and Paul nodded in support.

So I went downstairs and filled the china pot with boiling water and the restorative tea mixture. Suddenly I wondered how that boiler was fueled, I never saw Paul stoke it though I often saw him stoke the forge.

Making a mental note of that thought, I took the pot and three cups, and a plate with some cakes and pastries upstairs on a tray, and when I poured the tea the room filled with its fresh fragrance.

The scent seemed to revive Paul a little, of course he had thrown quite a lot of magic around all night, so a restorative to calm his nerve endings would do him good too.

I poured him a cup too, and helped him to the privy while it cooled a bit.

Lukas was already digging into the food when I left, he always ate a lot after a healing. When we came back there was enough left for Paul and me, but I could see that Lukas was still hungry, so I urged him to eat more, offered Paul some and asked him where he kept the painkillers, then fetched them, and more food and some hot water from the kitchen.

The food was soon eaten as well, using magic was clearly hungry work, and after helping Paul out of the remains of his shirt I asked him to lie down on his belly. With the water and a clean towel I washed most of the blood off his back, and also some off his chest and his face.

When I was done I could see the painkiller was taking effect, for his eyes became clear again, and he wanted to know what had happened, the short version, for he was very tired, he just wanted to know if all was well before he went to sleep.

So the three of us drank the rest of the tea, and Lukas and I told Paul about the conclusion of our raid, of the children freed with Frances taking care of them, the evil mage with his head bashed in, George and Marcus getting us out and driving us home, George taking matters in hand at the factory, and planning to release the faeries afterwards.

Both men were fighting sleep, so we kept it short, and then I stroked their curls until they fell asleep. After that I cleaned up the cups and the bloodied towels, then took a short shower and crawled between the two guys again, falling asleep within minutes.

I woke with Lukas kissing me, and when I opened my eyes I saw he was already dressed, and he said: 'Good morning love, I'm off for my morning run. Back in an hour.'

And off he was indeed. On my other side, Paul was still fast asleep, breathing slowly and deeply, totally at peace though he did not look as young as he usually looked in his sleep. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and kiss him, feel him as close as I could, but he needed his sleep so I controlled my impulse and just watched him.

Then a sleepy voice said: 'Please do, I want you to spoil me. Just be careful of my back, it hurts.' Wondering how he knew what I was thinking of, I caressed his beloved face, and his hair, and I moved towards him to snuggle up to him and kiss him.

Though I was very careful, I saw him wince in pain and asked: 'Do you need a painkiller?' He admitted: 'I think I do, I slept really well, but now I'm awake everything is starting to hurt.' I got up and fetched a glass of water and some painkiller, then sat next to him to help him up to take it. 'You're stiff as well as wounded, aren't you?' I asked, and he nodded: 'I feel stiff as a board, back, chest, even my arms and neck.

Can you take my arm to help me up? Oh, that smarts, but it has to be done.' With my help he managed to sit upright, and he took the painkiller with the water. I still wanted to touch him, so I sat next to him again and asked: 'Can I hold you without hurting you?' In reply he slowly moved around a bit until he sat against me, and he gave me a very intense kiss that made me very warm inside.

Then he found a comfortable position in my arms, and I stroked him again, so happy to be holding him, to smell him, to feel his skin and see his face looking at me.

He didn't last long in that position, after a few minutes he had to lie down again and I asked him to lie on his side or stomach to show me the bullet-wound. I didn't look as nasty as other wounds often did, the edges were clear instead of ragged, but I knew it was very deep, and only partly healed.

It looked a bit swollen and red, and I wasn't totally convinced it wouldn't infect. 'I want Lukas to look at this when he's back,' I said,' I'm not entirely sure it isn't getting infected.'

Paul replied: 'It does hurt a lot, so I guess I'll turn my back on him as well. How did he do that, get the bullet out?'

I said: 'I located it, then showed him where it was, and he seemed to work it out slowly with magic, as you turned the lock. When it came out, blood squirted, it was a pretty scary sight.'

'Were you very afraid?' he asked, and I replied honestly: 'When I saw you hit and fall, I was stunned with fear that you were dead.

Lukas was so quick with his head-butt that I had no time to fear the gun or the mage.'

'He was not a good mage, you could have taken him out yourself. There is even a way to shield against firearms, I'll teach both of you soon. And I think I'm going to build a gun myself, it will be an interesting project.

I can't wait to hear from George, I hope everything turned out well at the factory, it started as a raid but now someone is dead and he got involved. That is not what I had in mind, we may be in trouble.'

To be honest, I hadn't looked at it like that. Lukas killed a man, an evil mage to us, but a respectable factory owner to some.

Well, respectable, he did have ten teenagers locked in his basement. Though we couldn't prove to a non-mage that the vile perversion of a node was the cause of the deaths along the river, and if Lukas was arrested, his hoofs were sure to be found and he'd be in a world of trouble. But it would not do for Paul to worry about it, for he had a bullet wound and needed all his energy to get well, so I said to him:

'I'm sure George will do everything in his power to solve this problem,' trying to reassure him, but of course Paul was used to being in control, and trusting someone else was not his strongest poficiency.

Still, there was nothing for it but to stay in bed, stay quiet and heal. He did not even contradict me, which to me was a sign he really wasn't himself. Trying not to worry, I asked: 'Do you want to eat something?'

He replied: 'I do trust George, and he has a lot of influence in the higher circles. It's just that I usually manage quite well on my own. Still it cannot be helped. I'm really hungry, so I'd love some food. Do you think I can get up and shower, to soften up my muscles a little?'

Having no experience with wounds at all, I really didn't know and I suggested: 'Why not wait until Lukas gets back, he's our healer now. I'll get you some food and some coffee here, and we'll laze about until he gets here.' Which Paul accepted, and that worried me even more, letting me boss him around like that. Still, I got us a nice breakfast in bed, and he did eat well and talk lively enough during the meal. After breakfast we cuddled a bit, but anything more was way too painful, so we just left it at that.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

After an hour, Lukas indeed returned, and he brought George along with him. George looked very intently at Paul and kneeled beside the bed, I could see he was incredibly relieved to see him awake and alert, but dared not hug him for fear of hurting his dear friend.

Paul stiffly held out his hands and excused himself: 'I cannot do better than this, dear George, I hurt a lot.' George took the hands carefully and kissed them and said: 'I'm just very happy to see you awake, I've been worrying, though I've been busy too.'

This hit a nerve with Paul, who anxiously asked: 'Are we in big trouble, is Lukas in trouble?' George laughed and said: 'Actually, you're heroes, but your little raid is keeping me busy. I'll tell you all in the right order, as soon as Lukas has checked your wound.'

Now Paul mockingly complained: 'You're all so bossy.' Lukas grinned from ear to ear and kissed Paul intimately, saying: 'We are indeed. Will you show me your back?' 'If you'll help me, oh master,' Paul replied, and with Lukas' assistance he was soon turned over again.

Lukas asked me: 'Will you guide me again, Melissa?' I nodded, and laid my hands on the skin beside the wound, feeling my way inside. Lukas touched my mind and soon we were connected as intimately as yesterday, a rather profound experience after our resulting love-making. I decided to give in to the feeling a little, or we'd only build it up, so I embraced Lukas and kissed him with heat, which he returned, also eager to lose some of the tension between us.

After that kiss we tried again, I touched Paul's skin and let my feeling enter the tissue below. The healing had been successful, the squares Lukas had used to repair the damaged tissue had held, and it only needed to grow together again. But there were some alarming signs, some places were swollen, with a different kind of shapes cluttering the moving fluid, and an unhealthy colour. Lukas touched Paul himself, but nothing happened, his talent didn't step in. Paul would have to fight this infection himself, with rest and good care.

When we came back to the now, Lukas said: 'There is some infection, but I cannot heal it, you'll need to keep quiet and let your body do the work by itself.' George handed him a bag: 'I forgot to mention it, but Frances sent me this, antiseptic herbs, just steep in boiled water and apply with a clean cloth.' I said: 'I'll get boiling water straight away, and tea for us all. I won't offer you coffee George, it cannot compare to your own.'

And when Paul's shotwound had been cleaned with antiseptic, not a pleasant task with him biting on the duvet to keep from crying out in pain, and bandaged with more of the stuff against his skin, we made him comfortable against a few pillows and all enjoyed tea with some chocolate.

Then George started his tale: 'After you had left, Frances took care of the ten children. They had come from all over the island, promised an education in the magical arts. Instead of to a boarding school, they came to a cell, where they were fed reasonably well, but ritually robbed of their energy, which that black mage stored into a perversion of a node.

He used the power of the faerie-souls for no other goal than hide the power stolen from the children and the magic he used to steal it. The children did't know what he wanted the store of power for. They were all from middle or lower classes, and this so-called school was their only chance of education in magic.

Some of them want to return home, some still want an education, some didn't have a family, and some disappeared, having deteriorated through the abuse, until they seemed to have no will or power left.

One day they would just disappear.' Here, Paul interjected: 'The children on the dump: parentless, mindless. Living of refuse. Will you two test them, Lukas and Melissa? Together you may find if they can remember their parents and their homes, so they can at least go home and lead a bearable life?'

He was right of course, those poor children, burned out and destitute, they were the rejects. Of course we would do what we could for them. 'Of course we will, Paul, we'll go together,' Lukas said, 'we may have to ask Frances too, somehow small creatures trust her, maybe those kids will too.' George nodded and continued:

'When Frances and the factory guard were talking to the children, the watch arrived, which was interesting, for no-one in the factory had warned them, and people in that neighborhood don't like the watch. We soon found out why they were there, remember I told you about a mage on the council?

He had his suspicions about the deaths along the river too, and was keeping an eye on the factory, so when he felt the ley-lines being used, and saw the fireworks going on inside, he fetched the watch for an inspection.

With the faerie soul that powered the shield that hid the magic from sight released, the concealing magic had dissipated, and he could see the mockery of a node leaching into the river with his own sight, and he certainly could see those poor children, and hear their stories.

The watch found the mage, the cells and the altar by which time he knew enough to proclaim the three of you heroes of the city. He wants to meet you, especially you, Paul, he knew about guardians but had never thought of combining forces.'

I could see the relief on Paul's face, he didn't quite trust the voice of right against the voice of money, I guessed, and he feared especially for Lukas who couldn't spend a night in jail without being found out.

'Frances arranged for the children to be allowed to stay with us until their parents had been contacted. And we discussed a boarding school to be founded for these children, somewhere in the city, a combined effort of mages of all schools. Not all talented children can be taught by their parents, just look at Melissa here: had her talent awakened earlier, she'd have been in danger of falling in the hands of this black mage too.

Anyway, we have arranged a meeting today, to discuss this. You can be included too if you want to, we can come to you if you're not fit to travel, or you can latch on in a later stage if you're not well enough. I'll discuss those rejects living in the wasteland with him too, the city may pay for them to be helped.'

'The council member had the factory sealed, and the children escorted to our manor, where Ilsa and the staff fed them and prepared baths and beds for them. My steward and Frances will be writing a lot of letters today.

The council member, whose name is Tristan Telling, Frances and I remained at the site, and performed the rite to free the faerie-souls. One was already free after you destroyed the photograph containing its soul, and it was very upset not knowing what had happened and all the magic-use around it.

Fortunately it was one of ours, and it recognised Frances and came to her when she called it. We freed the rest, convinced them to come back to their trees, though one wasn't ours. It seemed to remember where its tree was, so Marcus carried it there. Frances will check on all of ours and if you want to, on the others as well, to help the trees to recover.

That was about it. The black mage is dead and he had no family, so the council will probably sell the factory. I've shown interest in it, it would be a good investment even if I paid the workers a decent wage and attached a school to it. We've lived quite a secluded life so far, maybe it is time we went into the world once in a while.

Oh and by the way, we found these two statues in the bags with the photographs.' And with that he got the two statues we had taken from the office out of his pockets, and put them on the nightstand.

But by now Paul was so weary that the statues were forgotten, his eyes were glazed with pain again, and George left quickly to allow him to rest. Lukas ran to the kitchen for more painkillers, and I tried to make him comfortable by helping him to lie down again, which was pretty difficult since he could hardly lie on his back, and all his muscles were still stiff as well.

When Lukas came back I could kick myself, for now he had to be propped up again to take them, causing extra pain. Still, that was also managed and soon my love was asleep and without pain for a few hours, hopefully.

I was worried, very much so. I had no experience at all with wounds, and Paul seemded in a very bad state to me. Lukas sat on the other end of the bed and held his arms open to me, and I sat quietly in his embrace, hoping to find some relief from my anxiety. He just held me and caressed my hair and my face in silence.

Then he touched my mind tentatively, until I welcomed him and connected to him. I could feel his solid trust in Paul's ability to get over this, relaxing me bit. He spoke: 'Bullet wounds hurt like hell Melissa, that does not mean he's in any direct danger. He'll just suffer a lot, and learn to never turn his back on an enemy ever again. That was foolish and arrogant, and he is paying the price. Fortunately it wasn't higher than this.'

That sounded harsh, but his feelings were so loving and feeling, I knew he felt for Paul as much as I did, he just knew more about wounds and healing and worried less. Our intimacy did not result in making love this time, just being together and watching our dearest friend and lover sleep was enough. But of course Lukas got restless after some time, and he picked up the statues and studied them.

Both were silver, and in the same style, very simple and still very realistic. It was easy to see what they represented: elves. At least as I imagined them, tall, very slim, pointed ears, beautiful faces. Lukas handed me one, and I looked at it with sight. It really looked the same as the plates with the photographs, there really was a soul in these statues. But would there still be a body somewhere for these souls to go to?

'There is a soul in this one, but is there a body somewhere?' I asked. 'Would you double-check this one for me, I think there's something in it?' Lukas asked, and I did.

He was right, but that still didn't tell us whether these souls would still have a body to go to: 'I think there is a soul in this one too, don't you?' He nodded, and said: 'I have no idea if they still have a body, I guess not, unless they are a primitive kind of faerie that can live for some time without soul.' We put the statues back on the nightstand, and Lukas said: 'Shall we take turns keeping an eye on Paul?

I have some reading to do, but there is also work that needs to be done in the workshop, some of which I can do unsupervised. He won't be up to working tomorrow, but he may be well enough to help me do the other jobs.' I found it difficult to even consider leaving Paul, but I did have a job I had to go to, and I wanted to see my boss today at the council building, to tell him this job was finished and to give him my resignation.

So I said to Lukas: 'Can you do the reading first? I'll cycle to work and to the council building, then return with groceries. I'm certain Paul will not mind my taking the bicycle, and it will be much faster.'

Within ten minutes I was dressed in a suit and on a bicycle towards my work. I still didn't see any lewd or scandalised looks, but I think I would have used it anyway, it was so much faster. In a wink I was at the site, and I saw the architect and told him I'd sign off on the building today, there would only be one final inspection at its completion, but for now I had nothing more to inspect, there were no structural changes anymore.

We shook hands, and he said: 'I hope we'll meet again on another site, working with you has been a pleasure.' I was pleased to hear that and told him: 'I have enjoyed seeing your building come to life from the drawings and ideas, it was a great inspiration to me. But I am thinking of quitting this job, I've had an offer for something else.'

He almost cried out: 'You're not going to get married to that craftsmaster and quit your job, are you? I saw him propose to you yesterday, and he's a good-looking fellow, and very well-spoken and talented obviously, but you have too much talent yourself to give up your career.'

Laughing, I explained: 'He didn't offer me his hand, he offered me a job, or rather a partnership in a firm of our own, designing structures and building them, solving engineering problems with his inventions. I think I'll accept.'

The architect now showed some embarrasment at his outburst, and said: 'Oh, I'm sorry Miss Thorn, that was very forward of me, but he seemed to be...well... really fond of you. But your own firm, that is really good, I'm sure you'll do very well together. If I can ever help you with advice please don't hesitate to contact me. And would you still be available to do some structural checks on contract basis?

Starting a business can be uncertain financially, and I would be much mistaken if your extraordinary talent with material would not bring you a nice extra income.' That was a good idea if I ever heard one, and I thanked him for the offer, he certainly might hire me for structural checks.

We parted cordially and I went on to the building, to have a last look at it before I signed off on it.

After checking the outside, still in scaffolding but not for long now, I went inside and strolled along the paths through the increasing foliage. This was taking shape quite nicely, and by the time temperatures would start to drop the heating would be ready for its task.

Absorbed in the grotto that was nearly finished by now, I didn't see anyone until I was pushed to the sandstone wall by a large, strong body. A similarly large hand clutched over my mouth prevented me from crying for help, and I felt a short twang of fear because I really could not move a muscle, this guy was very strong.

Then I remembered I had raided the hideout of an evil mage yesterday, and that this was a busy building site. My fear was instantly gone, and looking at my attacker I recognised the guy who had been leering at me all the time I had worked here.

He grinned: 'Saw you arrive on your sexy cycle today, I suppose you don't have a real man to give you some of that. You'll love this.'

Detached now, I saw he was quite a handsome man, why would he stoop to forcing himself on anyone? His other hand now loosening his belt, I decided not to waste any more time on trying to deduce his motives, but put an end to this before anyone saw this and thought I was the kind of girl who screwed men on the work place.

I'd worked hard to create credibility as working partner among men, one horny fellow was not going to mess that up. I shaped a tiny bit of magical power to a ball, prayed it would only stun.

He had loosened his belt and that hand was now moving towards my hair, him crooning: 'Such pretty copper locks, couldn't have anyone else touch those.'

One of my hands was stuck between his strong body and his arm still holding his hand over my mouth, but my other hand wriggled loose and struck him on the back of the head. As the power hit him, his strong body dropped like a felled ox.

Stepping over his stunned body, I felt some fear I had killed him, but just at that moment, my favourite contractor came running up, calling out with real concern: 'Miss Thorn, thank God you're safe!'

Quite upset now by the whole situation, I asked him: 'Is he still all right?' Looking at me in stunned amazement he said: 'You worry for him after he assaulted you? At your work place? It'd serve him right if he was not. How did you floor him anyway, such a big brute?'

Saying this, he did kneel down and check the guy's vital signs: 'He's fine, just out. How did you do that?' I tried to evade a clear answer by mumbling: 'A trick I learned, but it can be deadly.'

He looked at me with his head tilted slightly, I could see he didn't buy that at all, but he let it go and asked: 'Are you all right?

I heard from Fritz that you were on your last inspection and were contemplating quitting with the council, and I wanted to say goodbye and thank you and make a proposal of my own, when I heard this lump speak to you in a respectless way.

What a dork, you know I hired him? Won't make that mistake again, he's out on his ear. Assaulting a building inspector on site. Anyway, what I wanted to ask you, if you do go into business with the craftsmaster, will we be able to hire you to check out materials for flaws? It'll cost you a few hours a week and we can offer a steady income, you've saved my firm from a big disaster and I'm sure you will again. Just come in, check the stuff, mark anything that's not safe, and out. Please think about it.

I wish he had proposed to you, that craftsmaster, you looked fine together, and both gifted.

Oh, and did you hear the news about those deaths your Mr Kenwick was so interested in? Apparently it was poisonous waste from the wool factory that caused it.

The council has promised to check the factories more closely for dumping waste, I know river water is unhealthy, but some have naught else to drink, so it should at least not be poisoned. That would be a good cause for your friend's family, Rupert told me they're loaded gentry, having the drinking water improved.

But I suppose he's from the poor branch, every family has a poor branch, and if he were rich he'd not be talking to us craftspeople like we're his friends, he'd be way too important to do anything of the kind. Oh Miss, I'm sorry to talk so much, I was just so upset to find that large brute, he's coming round, leave him to me. Do you want to report him to the watch?'

I replied: 'Better not, my friend is at home sick and I want to be with him, besides, they'd ask me what I'd done and it would be difficult to explain.'

'I understand. Well, thank you again for saving my reputation, and think about my proposal. I'll be at your friend's workshop in a few days. He's not really bad I hope?'

He was such a nice man, but I couldn't tell him what happened, so I just said truthfully: 'It could have been much worse.' Then we shook hands cordially and I left, leaving the signing off to the next day, for after what had happened I wanted to be home.

Pedaling back took just ten minutes, and I put away the bicycle in the shed, then locked the doors behind me. The workshop was empty, the furnace cold.

I ran upstairs and found Lukas reading on the bed and Paul still sleeping. I sat next to Lukas, who immediately noticed I was upset, put an arm around me and asked: 'What happened?' I told him about the assault and he got rather angry, saying: 'In my country, that would cost him his horns.' That seemed a really severe punishment for something that happened daily in our reality, and I said so, but that upset him even more, so I asked him: 'How are things here?'

He replied: 'Much the same, he's even a bit feverish now, and in a lot of pain. We need to take really good care of the wound and of him, and if he keeps getting worse I'll try healing again tonight.'

As if Paul had heard that he got really restless, making distressed sounds in his sleep, face drawn in pain, hands clutching at nothing.

I very slowly moved towards him, and stroked his hair and his face very softly. His restlessness settled a little and he slept again, but Lukas said: 'I gave him another painkiller just after you left, if he wakes he can have another one.

But they're really not strong enough for a man in his condition, maybe Frances has something stronger, I think I'll run over to ask her, it's twenty minutes around.'

With Lukas away I got a pot of tea and some food, and a novel from the rows and rows of books and went back upstairs. Time passed quickly reading, and by the time Lukas returned with a stronger painkiller I was totally immersed in the story.

He left the powder with me with instructions on its use, and went to work downstairs. I read on until Paul became restless again. This time he truly woke up, not feeling better at all, feverish and cramped with pain.

I started with giving him the painkiller, and a lot of water to drink, then held and stroked him until the pain receded a little, which was surprisingly fast. 'I don't think I've ever felt this bad,' he said almost surprised, 'hot and cold, and I can't think properly. I want you to hold me but it hurts. Do you feel sorry for me?' 'Very much so,' I said, 'but I'm still going to help you turn on your stomach to check the wound.'

He felt hot to my touch, and the wound was red and swollen, but not alarmingly so. The area around it was turning black and blue now, and I was not surprised he was in great pain. I washed the wound with the antiseptic solution and bandaged it again, then helped him back into a more comfortable position and held him as close as was possible.

He did not want to eat, just drink, and we kissed some, which felt weird because he was so hot. I told him about the architect thinking our hug on the building site being a marriage proposal. 'He seemed almost disappointed, but he was glad I wasn't giving up my work. Both wanted to hire me to check materials.

I could make a career out of that, which would be boring I guess, but it will enable us to start up our own firm.'

He was pleasantly surprised by this: 'So you will go into business with me?' 'I will,' I replied, 'I will hand in my resignation tomorrow.' That made him very happy, but with the pain gone he soon fell asleep again, leaving me to my novel.

The afternoon was gone before Lukas came in hot and sweaty from working at the forge. He was in a good mood from having done his day's work, but he did not like Paul's fevered appearance.

'What is the use of having healing skills if I cannot use them when they are really needed? I'm going to try again, do you mind doing it right now?' I didn't, and I said so, and soon I had contact with the ley-line, and with Lukas.

This time, he wanted to try by himself. Paul was sleeping on his side, his back way too painful to lie on it, so Lukas could easily reach the wound, removing the bandage and touching the area around it. And he really seemed to have more success, I saw the black and blue area fade to brown, then yellow, and the swelling went down markedly.

The wound wasn't healed completely, but it was closed now, which meant he would be able to take a shower if he could face the stairs. I couldn't feel a change in temperature, but I guessed that would take a few minutes more. I knew I would feel the effect of the bond as soon as Lukas finished, and to be honest I was looking forward to the intimacy, the thought turned me on quite a bit.

And sure enough, I felt a rising lust that was not my own, and that mind-blowing closeness that came with transferring power was fast taking over.

Lukas looked almost wild with triumph and desire, and he jumped on me and kissed me very, very lingeringly. I felt his erection through his pants, and the throbbing in his mind, and I returned that kiss with all my heart.

'Hey you two, get a room,' a whimsical voice said behind me, and as I turned I saw Paul watching us, propped on an elbow, eyes bright but not with fever. Lukas asked: 'Do you want us to go upstairs?' Paul smiled indulgently and said: 'No please, I'd like to watch. Actually I'd like to join in, but though I feel much better I suppose that wouldn't be wise.'

I could feel Lukas hesitate, but my heat was up now and I planned to include Paul in the fun without taking a toll of his body, so I bluntly scratched Lukas' horn bases and felt his lust take over his mind. He was out of his pants and under my skirts in a second, and as he jumped me his body landed on me and he slid in me in one overwhelming dose of weight, musky scent and exhilarating fullness.

I kept scratching his horns firmly, stimulating him to furious action, thrilling both our senses. It was really unbelievable to feel through our bond how sensitive those horn bases were, my touch there set all his nerve endings on fire. I don't think he'd ever been so fast and so furious, which of course meant he came to a climax really quickly.

But that did not deter him, for he just lay between my legs and let me catch up with him with his tongue and nimble fingers. As I came to a shuddering climax, he was ready for his second round, and when he sat up, I turned around and kneeled before him, but within reach of my hurt lover, who was watching our love-play eagerly.

Folding back the blanket I noticed he was ready for some loving, and as I took his penis in my mouth, I felt Lukas enter me from behind. That was quite something, I heard Paul moan in unexpected pleasure, and Lukas was using our connected minds to adjust his now more sedate thrusting to what stimulated me most. I knew this couldn't last long, I was being touched so expertly inside, that I felt a high coming from far away, but approaching rapidly.

Of course my rising exitement translated to my own ministrations, and Paul was generally very exitable, so we came almost together, with him remembering to spill his hot seed on his own hand instead of in my mouth.

After that, Lukas speeded up again, and I could see Paul was still amazed at his incredible stamina. I remembered Lukas doing the same when he was still stick-thin, and the ever rising elation in my mind that belonged to him was coloured with fond remembrance, until he lost every coherent thought in total lust and abandonement, then crashed on the bed laughing, taking me with him, elated with his success in healing his friend after all, and his total release afterwards. Upside down, he asked Paul: 'How do you feel, better?'

Paul roughed his hair and said: 'Much better, I do think I'm almost free of pain. You are a miracle worker!' But when Lukas hugged him in response, he winced and said: 'Well, nearly almost free of pain. Can I have a shower now, please?'

And of course he got his way, we half-carried him up the stairs and I think he suffered quite some pain, but the fever was gone and he could laugh again, and when he got out and I dried him very carefully with a towel, I could feel his back and shouders were no longer rock-hard, his muscles had finally loosened. Of course the two guys now wanted to eat, so Lukas and I fetched all kinds of things from the kitchen, and we made a merry meal.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

But Paul wouldn't be Paul if he didn't start worrying again as soon as his mind wasn't overruled with pain anymore. Between bites he stated: 'I'm not up to excursions yet today, but you can leave me alone with a book for a few hours.

Would you two be so kind as to visit those rejected children tonight, see if you can find out how much mind they have got left? If we have a meeting tomorrow with George and the council member about the wasteland and talented children, I'd like to know what we're dealing with.'

Lukas, also still munching, answered: 'I've been aching to do something for those children, if you feel confident on your own I'd love to go. Do you agree Melissa, that we should take Frances along with us?'

I said: 'I do, any wild creature would trust her before anyone else I know.' Now Paul insinuated: 'You didn't do so bad yourself with a wild creature, some time ago...' and I retorted: 'You weren't as wild as that, Paul, when I tamed you.'

Lukas clearly enjoyed our bantering very much, as self-assured and as contained as he had gotten he still needed a lot of love. He manoeuvered himself into my arms and said nothing, though he clearly knew Paul had meant him, and the idea of Paul as wild creature was ludicrous to him.

Of course Paul saw this too, and he targetted Lukas: 'You were too busy hitting on pretty girls to see it, but I was like a mad thing on that dance-floor.' Now Lukas couldn't keep quiet anymore, and said: 'Oh I saw you all right, and you were the most beautiful, most controlled dancer of the lot. Can we go again soon?' I added: 'Let's make a group of it, include Ilsa and her siblings if they feel like it.'

Before we left, Lukas suggested to Paul: 'You might want to check out those statues when we are away. They contain a soul all right, but we couldn't find out much more.' He didn't have to say more, Paul's eyes lit up at the challenge, and soon we were on our way to the estate.

I took a bicycle and Lukas went on his own two feet. After my experience of this afternoon, I no longer worried about being molested or mugged, I knew I could defend myself, and I had seen Lukas in action as well. Soon we were moving along the lane, then we were at the manorhouse, ready to look for Frances. The place looked different with ten children about, playing on the lawn, reading in the shade of the large trees.

The children recognised us, and told us Frances was working in her greenhouse. She agreed to come with us and told us the first parents would come to collect their sons and daughters today and tomorrow, the ones living near the city, who had gotten the message today and had sent a reply back with the messenger.

Some of the others might stay for a few weeks, their parents living as far away as the Islands. We spent some time with George, updating him on Paul's condition, reasonably sure he would be up to a meeting, as long as it might take place in his own gothic palace, from a comfortable chair.

George insisted we take a carriage, he didn't want Frances in the wasteland on foot, and maybe he was right, she was not as streetwise as we had become.

So in a carriage we went, leaving it halfway down the road, quite a ways from the houses where the children would be hiding. Frances had thought to bring a bag of the pretty cakes, and a bag of sandwiches, to tempt the children out, and of course to provide them with food, for it they were not going to show up, she'd just leave them there with a big canister of clean water and some cups.

The going was tough between the rubble, and to be honest, it was even filthier than I had feared it would be.

But we'd have to get used to the filth, for to win these rejects' trust and to check their minds, we would have to touch them anyway. There was not a child to be seen, but with sight I placed all of them in one of the houses near the road.

We realised they might become violent in their despair, so we entered very carefully, trying to look harmless. Of course we had our appearance in our favor, for Lukas looked much like a large boy with his unruly mop of curls, Frances like everybody's mom, and I was only a young woman, so not much threat there either. The children seemed to know we came for them, for they were all huddled in one large room at the back of the derelict house, the only one with all the windows still unbroken. One rather large boy, nearly an adult, seemed to feel responsible for the rest, for he stood before them half afraid, half defiantly.

'What are you doing here?' he asked us, in clear English, with an immaculate accent. What was a boy like that doing here in a wasteland?

This is what we had Frances for, and she replied: 'We have come to bring you food, and a healer if you need one.'

With this, she put the water and the cups down, and the bags with the sandwiches. Still a bit suspicious, but clearly very hungry and maybe even glad to see friendly adult faces, the boy handed the bag to another teenager, probably a girl, but it was hard to see from her huddled shape and ragged clothing.

She didn't say anything, but quickly distributed a sandwich to each child, then handed one to the boy, who had not stopped watching us, and took one herself. They didn't devour the food, but ate it slowly, savouring it, and they didn't fight over it either, which gave me instant hope that they might have some mind left, even if they had apparently lost every memory of who or what they were.

Now Lukas sat down in one fluid move, and he looked so harmless and loving, that one of the smaller children scooted over and sat on his lap.

He didn't hold it for fear of making it feel caught, but he did stroke its filthy hair lovingly, and the child sat against him. I followed his example and sat down, and Frances also followed suit. This seemed to quiet the leader down even more, and now Frances spoke again:

'Are you the leader of this little group?' The boy nodded, and said: 'I've been here longest, and I've tried to keep us all together and share the stuff we gathered, food and clothes.

And two or three still wanted to play, so we found them some toys.'

Meanwhile, the girl had discovered that there was clean water in the canister, and she was pouring cups and handing them to the others. They shared the water too. Now the boy, cup in hand, sat down as well, pretty close to us, and went on: 'Two of us are sick, have been since they emerged from the place down there.

They don't speak, they eat little, they just sit there, looking at nothing.' Frances nodded and said: 'This is Lukas, sitting with the little girl. He is our healer, he can check them out. This young lady is Melissa, and I'm Frances, what is your name?'

The question clearly hurt the boy, for he cringed and replied: 'I don't remember. None of us have a name.' Frances spoke calming words: 'Don't worry, Lukas can help you remember too, forgetting your name was done to you in that place, and he will bring it back to you. The place is empty now, it cannot hurt you anymore.'

Through all this talk the girl was still busy distributing water and the rest of the food. The nameless boy got another sandwich and ate it slowly.

Frances now told the boy: 'We are not just here to give you food and help, we want to take you somewhere where you can bathe, sleep, get clean clothes, cut your hair, and then we want to try if we can find your parents so you can return to them. If you agree.'

Now the teenager, who had kept this group together and managed to save them all, started to cry heartbreakingly. I couldn't stand it anymore, and went to him carefully, offering to comfort him. He didn't shy away and allowed me to put my arms around him, still crying in heaving sobs.

The other children were watching him with fear on their grimy faces, clearly totally dependent on him, and aware he was lost to them for a moment.

I held that brave, nameless boy for as long as he needed to spill his immense grief, and by the time his skinny frame stopped heaving so intensely, and his sobs became quieter, he was holding me tightly, finding some comfort in my warm presence.

Finally, he whispered: 'Will you please release me of this unbearable burden? I'm only a child myself, I cannot care for so many others anymore.'

He nearly broke my heart with those words, his voice still rough from crying, and squeeky from his approaching manhood.

I held him even tighter, as Frances replied: 'I will, bravest of boys, but first I want you to have your name back.

Lukas, can you look at him first, whilst I share out some of those beautiful cakes to his charges?'

She held the first beautiful cake out to the child on Lukas' lap, and the child quickly came to her to take it, enabling Lukas to get up and sit next to us.

He touched the boy carefully, then said: 'I'm going to use healing magic to try and release your memory, if it's still somewhere in your mind. You may see some weird flashes, or feel weird things happening, please trust us that we will not hurt you. Can you do that?'

I felt the boy nod, he seemed very weary all of a sudden, hoping his ordeal was over after years of struggling. I reached for the ley-line and contacted Lukas' mind, as he touched the boy again, and his talent took over.

I wanted to follow Lukas to see what could wipe the memory of a person but still enable him to speak perfect English and care for nine other children in a wasteland.

But I missed the connection to his talent this time, so I decided to just feed Lukas power so he could do his thing and help Frances keep an eye on the other kids. For now they were enjoying the cakes, staring at them in wonder, undoubtedly not remembering having ever seen something so colourful and pretty.

Then Frances gestured they could eat it, and they did, amazed by the sweetness. They were actually far too rich for children who had been starved for months, maybe years, but they were rather small, so they would probably not hurt them.

Lukas was still in rapport with the boy, sharing the enormous load that one'd had on his shoulders for such a long time, it seemed like years.

And his grief, for not being able to help those who were merely vegetating. Something in him knew that living like this wasn't right, but when he had tried to remember how it was supposed to be, he struck a barrier, a blockade, each time, until he gave up trying and just went on with his life in this outpost of hell.

Leaving just didn't occur to him, he had no memory of life outside this wasteland, and he couldn't leave the children who had come after him, dumped in the wasteland by a dark shape, a shape he instinctively avoided, for he didn't remember anything specific but he knew that person must not see any of them. Those children had been in a worse shape each time a new one arrived, lifeless, numb, without any idea of who they had been.

The early ones started to wake up after a few days, got a little life back, built up new memories, and new emotional ties, but the latest ones stayed as numb and lifeless as the day they had been dumped.

I could feel Lukas' strain coping with these horrific memories, and I could also feel his intent to break down that barrier to the brave kid's older memories. I knew there would be even worse memories behind that barrier, and I wondered if it was a good idea to face them here, in the wasteland, covered in soot and filth, but he was already grinding away mentally on that barrier. I could see the advantage of this one kid regaining his memory, it would make treating the others much easier, for they trusted him through and through.

And in my mind he had earned immediate relief for all the extra grief he had gone through protecting the others.

When the barrier finally broke, Lukas and I were both buried under an avalanche of memories, some of them gruesome, of being drained of magical power with brute magic by the black mage, of being savagely beaten by the same man, for resisting his mental torture, for being nearly strong enough to attack him with real magic, of the same man finally beating him to within an inch of his life, dumping him in the wasteland to die and rot away amid the trash.

The memory of him waking after all, utterly alone among the filth, wounded inside and out from the savage beating, with no idea who he was and how he got there. His survival instinct drove him to drink from a puddle and find food amidst the trash, until he slowly healed and became reasonably strong again, still utterly alone but with an iron will to survive.

And the arrival of the other children, one by one, not beaten like him but lifeless from being totally drained of magical power.

Not alone anymore, he nursed each of them back to health, and because of his greater mental resilience they looked up to him as their leader, as their father figure, which was too large a task for a boy, no matter how strong.

Lukas took all these profound and often intensely sad memories, and went over them with the boy until they were less strong, less overwhelming. He could not lay them to rest yet, they were too strong, and the boy would need more time and more sessions to truly face them, but this would help him cope a lot better with what he had been through.

And then Lukas took him back further, to the days when he was still a normal boy. Again, memories flooded in, memories that the brave kid would be processing for days ahead, weeks even. He would remember everything over time, and it would take weeks to sort his memories, put them in the right order, relive them and realise it was his own youth he was remembering.

There were some sad memories, but mostly happy ones, and Lukas went in search of the ones that were most important now, the boy's name, and who his parents were and if they still lived. Searching for clues there was a profound memory of the boy sitting with his parents in a room, their own dining room he remembered, with a man he would come to hate but didn't know then. The man said: 'So, Mr and Mrs Woolridge, you agree with me that sending young Jonathan here to my boarding school in the city would be the best and safest for all parties concerned.'

His parents, nodding but not looking convinced, himself, partly anxious to leave home, but eager to start the magical training he was promised.

Suddenly the connection between Lukas and the boy, Jonathan, was broken. Through my intimate connection with Lukas his feeling of triumph, but also an incredible weariness came rushing in.

As Jonathan jumped up from my lap, shouting: 'I remember everything!' hugging his friends, large and small, vivacious and downtrodden, I was just in time to catch Lukas, who was sagging in exhaustion.

I checked his power level and it was fine, so why was he so tired? Catching my unspoken question he whispered: 'Don't worry, just hold me for a bit, and stay in contact with me. That was a lot to cope with, for him, but for me as well. I'll be fine in a few moments.

Can you imagine how strong he must be, to survive that with his sanity intact?' I held him, and together we watched the children in their confusion, seeing their father figure act like the child he still was, deliriously happy with his name, and the partial removal of the burden of his memories. Frances handed him one of the cakes, and he immediately recognised it: 'Cake! Haven't had that for years, and such a pretty one too.'

He bit into it carefully, and his face reflected his wonderment at the sweet taste: 'It is the best one I've ever tasted, thank you so much Frances.'

I didn't wonder, after two years of eating garbage, that that little cake was the best one he ever had. Lukas was watching all this with quiet satisfaction, and I realised that the love that bound these children filled his need for love nearly as well as sharing physical love.

He'd drain himself to death to give them all their memories back, I was sure of that. Fortunately he couldn't do it without me, so I would be there to keep an eye on him.

Seeing that his charges were a little upset by his exhuberance, Jonathan gave them all a little pat, and promised them their turn would come as well, and that they might see their parents again.

He took the time to settle them all, then spent extra time with the girl who had shared the food among the children, soothing her, for she seemed especially upset.

I bet she was afraid he'd leave them, letting the task of caring for the whole lot fall to her. Or maybe she was in love with him, for children in dire circumstances tended to grow up really quickly. This is where Frances spoke again: 'My dear girl, he will not leave you behind, we will not leave you behind.

You can all come with me, clean up, eat again, drink again, sleep in comfort and safety, play on our lawn, sit under our trees, and when Lukas has recovered from healing Jonathan here, he'll help another one of you, and then another, until you've all had your chance.

Hearing this, Jonathan went to Lukas, saw him sitting in my lap, clearly exhausted, and said: 'Thank you so much Lukas for giving me my life back. And for taking those horrible memories from the front of my mind to the back.

It was hard for you, wasn't it? You look dead tired, small wonder with the power I saw being drained from you. I never realised one could take power from those glowing lines, or that guy would never have laid his filthy paws on anyone ever again after touching me.

Here I spoke up: 'Jonathan, don't touch those lines unless you are with someone who can teach magic. It's like handling lightning, it can kill you.'

He nodded, then promised: 'I will not, though I don't know if I'll ever get magic training, it's only the highborn kids who get it.' I asked: 'Aren't you highborn then? You speak like you are.'

He replied: 'I was raised if I was, my father was steward to a gentleman, and his son and I were practically raised together. My lord wanted to sponsor me into a apprenticeship, but no-one would take me because I was of a lower class.'

I told him: 'It is not impossible, for I'm not highborn and still I have a magics-teacher. So please keep heart.'

He brightened a little, then addressed Lukas again: 'Say, you're not like us, are you? You look different somehow.' Startled, Lukas replied: 'I'm not, Jonathan, I'll explain another time, when I'm less tired.

First we'll have to get your friends here to a better place to stay, it's nearly getting dark, and we have a friend who needs us. I'll be over tomorrow to help one or two of you again, maybe with Melissa, maybe with Frances' husband, who teaches me magic.

Frances, can you put these up as well?' Frances, still sitting on the ground, and with the little child on her lap, replied: 'We will, even our second best is way better than what these poor kids are used to.

Jonathan, do you agree to all come with me?'

He nodded and asked: 'Will you care for us?' Frances replied: 'Until we can find your parents, and if they cannot be found for some of you, we will find a suitable place to live for them.'

This was good enough for Jonathan: 'Then we'll come with you. But two of us cannot walk far.' At this, Frances said: 'I have a carriage waiting outside, they can ride in it. But you won't all fit. Take any toys you're attached to, leave the rest. Let's be off.'

Jonathan soon had all of them in motion, even the two catatonic children. Frances carried the little girl, and asked: 'Did she come from the place as well?' The answer was shocking: 'No, she just came here by herself one day, from the other side we think, but no-one came to fetch her, we let her play outside for days to allow her parents to pick her up, but after a few weeks she was still here. So we kept her.'

By now we had reached the carriage, and Jonathan urged the two children in, I thought they were a boy and a girl, but wasn't sure under the filth. The little girl went in as well, and I practically forced Lukas in.

Slowly we walked towards the manor, a soot covered row of skinny children, led by a skinny teenager with the eyes of an old man.

When we arrived at the manor house, Bertha was waiting with the small carriage pulled by the tiny ponies, and everyone could ride, which speeded our journey up considerably. At the house, the staff was also waiting, having been through the same process yesterday with the children saved from the factory.

Jonathan was still everywhere, soothing one child, coaxing another, but I could easily see that the load was from his shoulders, he had given up the tremendous responsibility to Frances, who was much better suited to handle it.

In the warm summer evening they made a game of the bathing, all stripping and soaping on the lawn, then spraying eachother with a water hose connected to an ingenious apparatus that was powered by a lever.

'Paul's work, to water the plants' Frances said, 'you to must be aching to get back to him, I will call for the carriage to give you a lift. We'll manage just fine here. Lukas, will you be going too?' Lukas put an arm around me and asked: 'Will you be all right to go back on your own? I want to see George for an hour or so, talk about what happened tonight, maybe exchange some intimacies.'

I knew this had been a very difficult healing for him, not only the personal suffering he had encountered, but he had also been confronted quite harshly with the shortcomings of our society in caring for its weaker members. I could understand his need to talk to someone with a lot more experience than himself or me, and George being a very attractive and active lover as well would make him irresistable to Lukas right now.

There was still a price to pay to his talent after all. I told him: 'Of course I understand, it's been a difficult day for you, and George is the perfect partner for you right now, as well as your magic's teacher. Will you come home tonight?'

He replied: 'I will. When all is said and done, my place is still with you two. But don't wait up, I'll let myself in.' We hugged and kissed, and then I went towards the carriage.

Frances hugged me as well, and asked: 'Will we see you tomorrow? I want to talk to you about the greenhouse.' I replied: 'It depends a little on how Paul's doing, but I think I'll come.

Have to fetch the bicycle back too.' 'We'll take good care of it,' she said, 'good night!' And I was into the carriage, and back home in a few minutes.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

I rushed upstairs, suddenly afraid Paul had been alone for too long, that he had had a setback. But as I stormed into the bedroom I found him reading peacefully, happy to see me of course, but not anxious or in pain. I sat down on the bed and we embraced tightly, wrapped up in each other's presence, and we kissed, then looked at the other, then kissed again.

He made room for me to lie down, and when I was nicely settled in his arms, I felt that tentative touch brush my mind, and I reached out for it. The intimacy of that contact was so deeply satisfying to both of us, that we didn't do anything but share feelings for what seemed a long time.

We didn't get overpowered by lust this time, I certainly had more need for quiet intimacy, and I felt Paul was still in some pain, making physical exertion not a very appealing prospect. When the pain started to become worse, so that I could even feel it, I got up and brought him a painkiller, which he obediently took.

I watched him, my love for him overflowing seeing him sitting there, almost back to his normal self, his curly head tilted questioningly at my silence, his stubble thicker than usual, his loving eyes mirroring my infatuated look. Of course he could feel what I was feeling, just as I knew exactly how deeply he loved me, but still he said: 'What?'

On impulse I said: 'I have met your younger brother just now. I don't know what he really looks like, for he was covered in soot and filth, and his hair was long and matted, but he single handedly saved not just himself, but nine other kids as well.

He didn't remember his name or anything else since he was dumped in that wasteland to die, but he knew how to keep a group together and he fed them and clothed them and never thought of escaping his fate.

When Lukas unblocked his memories, his talent also unfolded again, and when Frances promised to take care of all of them, he cried with relief. Paul, I don't think he can be many years over sixteen, and he pulled them through two winters, on nothing but garbage.'

Clearly, this made Paul feel very guilty: 'And he suffered right under my nose, for as long I have been guardian of this quarter.'

I retorted: 'Which is a few months, whilst it happened under your predecessor's nose for more than one and a half years. Paul, you uncovered this foul business, you led the raid that exposed this black mage, you beat him in a duel. You nearly died to save those children, we couldn't go into that wasteland until the mage was beaten.

He reminded me of you because he sacrificed so much and it still wasn't enough.' This silenced him on the subject of guilt, and he asked: 'You like him very much, don't you?' I replied with feeling: 'I couldn't help it, this boy is special, to have suffered such hardship and still be totally human. He cannot be allowed to go back to his parents and lead a normal, boring life.

So much talent and such drive have to be given direction, such natural leadership cannot be buried alive in a secretary's job or a stewardship. If he is not challenged he will get bored, and with his horrible memories and his talents he may become the next black mage.'

That message came home, and Paul offered: 'When I'm able to move around again, do you want me to test him and see if he is guardian potential? Then we could help him get his education, even if that school that the council member wants to found is not viable.'

That was enough for me, for I knew that those two would recognize one another for what they were immediately, so now I just needed to make sure they'd meet soon.

After this I described the whole scene to him, Frances' role as mother-figure, Lukas' incredible effort, and his subsequent wish to see George about it. The total of twenty strange children on the estate now, of which the two catatonic ones certainly wouldn't be able to reveal their parents.

'I want to help as much as possible, and Lukas feels the same. 'Is he coming home tonight?' Paul asked. I replied: 'He is planning to, but I'm afraid he may try to heal another child first. If George is willing to help him.' 'I trust George with anyone, he'll not ride him as hard as I did you, driving you into reaction sickness time and time again, Lukas will be fine,' Paul said, 'do you want some dinner? You must be starving, I know I am. I think I can make it downstairs and maybe even cook.'

That's when you know you really are a bad cook, when people with a fresh and very painful shot wound prefer to navigate a stairs over eating your cooking.

But of course I knew that already, and I had never put any energy in improving my skills, so I guessed I deserved it. Fortunately I was allowed to help, by dicing stuff, and pouring tea, but I did not get to touch a pan or even the boiler, though I was sure standing up hurt Paul more than he hurt my feelings insulting my cooking.

We got an edible dinner within half an hour, and we both enjoyed that very much. It was even quite romantic, him and me gazing at each other infatuatedly over a plate of good food.

But after dinner he graciously allowed me to do the dishes all by myself whilst he laid on the sofa, waiting for his painkiller to take effect so he would make it up the stairs.

Soon I was sitting on the sofa with his head in my lap, stroking his hair, and he asked: 'Do you want to know what I discovered about those statues?' I had completely forgotten about those silver statues, and I said as much, at which he told me: 'I can imagine, saving a bunch of neglected children from a derelict house in the midst of hell is much more exciting. Though I did find something interesting, I just need to verify it with a book.

Could you fetch it from the bookcase, it's placed among the magic books, a large red leather-bound tome with the striking title of 'The merry faerie' in gold lettering.'

Carefully I got up from the sofa, replacing my lap with a pillow, but he got up and sat on the sofa instead. I searched for the book among the scores of magic books, and finally discovered a large tattered red book with the title in gold letters, removed it from the shelf and took it with me to the sofa.

Once there I sat next to my lover, and laid the book on his knees, it was big enough that when Paul opened it it covered both our laps. He started to turn pages, obviously familiar with the contents of the ancient book, and I caught snatches of beautifully calligraphed images and a nearly illegible script.

Paul didn't seem to have any trouble reading it, and he quickly found the page he was looking for. He scanned it, then read part of it very carefully and slowly, then said: 'It is as I thought, these are elven marriage statues, some families have them made for their children to celebrate their joining. They're usually just beautiful and associated with good luck, but sometimes their maker puts so much of himself in them, that they develop a soul of their own.

Apparently the souls are part of the statues, they don't have bodies pining away somewhere. Interesting as they are, studying them any further can wait until the current situation has been resolved. We'll just leave them here to get acquainted with the house.'

Now when had I heard him say that before, and why did it raise the hairs in my neck?

But those children needed our help, and I hoped we would have something to offer them the coming days. I took a good look at Paul and it seemed the painkiller had taken effect, for he sat straighter and more relaxed.

I asked: 'Is the pain gone?' He nodded and replied: 'It is, and even when it comes back it hurts ever so much less than it did this morning. That is a very valuable talent Lukas has. Do you suppose his father knew somehow, going to such lengths to set it free?' I mused: 'It would make him very useful to his father's court, if one didn't care about the price Lukas had to pay to get the talent.'

Paul added: 'Maybe dear papa also hoped it would make him more tractable, having suffered a little at the hands of scary demons, having been humbled .'

Suddenly I remembered something I had wondered about earlier that day: 'Does your boiler need attention to keep the contents hot? I realised today that I have never seen you stoke it yet.'

Paul answered: 'It does, you're right, I almost forgot. I use a magical trick to stoke it about ten times as efficiently as a normal boiler, but it does need some fuel, about once a day. I'll show you straight away.'

We put the red book aside and I followed him into the cellar, down the rather steep stairs that ended in the small, rather cold room with one wall covered in shelves, where Paul kept his supplies. On the other wall was a cabinet, I guess the deepest darkest place in his house, where he told us he kept the mirror that was the portal to the world full of demons, wrapped in black velvet. And a large boiler, made out of copper but unadorned, still a thing of great beauty, with the expected pile of coal beside it.

I asked: 'I have wondered before why it is cool in here, when that thing should be heating the room up to an unbearable temperature?' This made Paul laugh, and he said: 'Can't fool an engineer, can I? I have a spell on that boiler, keeping all the heat inside.

If it overheats, it vents into the workshop on the other end of the wall in winter, and outside the house in the summer. The boiler in the kitchen is connected to this one, as well as the one in your apartment.

They merely keep the water hot and send it around the house, they don't actually heat it. This one does all the heating.' He opened a chute and handed me a hand shovel, asking: 'Can you fill that from the pile three times and ease it in?' I filled the shovel up with coal and let the contents slide into the chute. He nodded in approval, that was slowly enough.

Then I repeated that movement twice, hung the shovel back where it came from, and closed the chute.

Satisfied, Paul said: 'That is it, it's ready for another day. In winter I need to stoke it twice a day, with double the amount of coal, and I remove the spell from the piping and the other boilers, and they heat the house.' I was stunned, thinking of the quantity of coal my parents used to burn to keep our house heated in winter.

Our tiny house, where we lived with five people in one room and had two unheated bedrooms. 'It's one of my great frustrations, not being able to improve society with magic. Every family in the city could live this comfortably, with running water as well, I use magic to pump that from the ground and engineering to pump it around the house.

But if anyone knew, I'd be imprisoned, murdered, who knows what the people would do to me for using magic. So the boilers I sell are just that, boilers, though I try to make them as fuel-efficient as possible.' He seemed positively sad about having to keep the advantages of using magic a secret, and he looked so wistful I couldn't help wrapping my arms around him and kissing him.

He returned my kiss with fervour, a good sign, his body responded to stimuli again, he really was much better.

After the kiss he said, in a very serious voice: 'Melissa, I've had a lot of time to think about things. Getting shot reminded me of the dangers we face. If something should happen to me I want you to know that I keep the portal in the cabinet over there.'

This, pointing at the cabinet I already suspected was the hiding place of that powerful thing. But he was not done yet: 'Until you are at your full powers, George should have that, he is strong enough to guard it. I also want you to have this house, instead of running the risk of being turned out by my parents.'

I didn't even want to think of him leaving me behind, I still heard the shot and saw him fall in my mind. His comments distressed me, and he noticed: 'Melissa, I can see this upsets you, but please bear with me, I have a reason to want to discuss this with you. You love me for who I am as a person, and you love my work, and I want you to have my legacy if anything should happen to me. Which I hope will not, for I want to live with you for years and years to come, I love you more than anything in this world and I want to build a life with you, make us both happy.

So though maybe this isn't the time and most certainly not the place, I still want to ask you something:'

He was very intense now, the air in that little room was laden with feelings. I found that having him look at me like that still caused my heart to skip a beat, and I had some trouble remembering to breathe.

As I watched him, rooted to the ground by his intensity, he slowly sank to his knees and looked up at me, eyes burning, and I heard his voice, thick with feeling: 'Melissa, will you let me be yours forever, will you marry me?'

I know I said I didn't cry easily, but I can tell you, his intensity combined with the humble posture, and the still fresh image of him dropping, not knowing whether he was dead or alive, or hurt beyond hope, well I'm not ashamed to tell you that made me cry now.

I helped him up, for I didn't like to see him humble himself for me, and though I knew it was his way to show me that he wanted us to be equals, I could also see that in his condition it was painful. Of course he needed an answer too, and instead of just saying 'I will', which I did, wholeheartedly, I contacted his mind and let him feel the depth of my love for him, but also a big question: what about Lukas?

For though I would marry Paul, how could I not marry the man I loved so much it hurt and who loved me at least as much, it would nonetheless break my heart to shut Lukas out of it.

Wrapped up in Paul's arms now, and bearing a significant part of his weight as a sign he needed to be back in bed as soon as possible, I felt his happiness and reassurance flood my mind and my intended whispered in my ear: 'Dearest, how could I ever do that to someone I professed to love? But even if I didn't love you way too dearly to break your heart, I have come to love Lukas too. I don't want to marry you to claim you for my own, I want to marry you to provide for both of you in case something happens to me.'

I wanted to hold him forever, but I could clearly feel that he was at the end of his strength, and I didn't want him to have a setback. So I kissed him once more, then helped him up the stairs to the sofa, where I cleaned the wound, and from there to bed.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

When he was comfortable again, I continued where I left off to take him to bed, caressing his hair, his face, kissing him and holding him.

He asked: 'Do you want a real wedding, a big thing? With both our families, a gorgeous dress, a walk down the isle, dancing and a banquet? It can be arranged, my parents would love it, they would of course have preferred a girl of a noble family, but they have a healthy respect for a true talent like yours.'

I contemplated it seriously, but I couldn't imagine putting the highest class of the country in one room with my working class parents. Would anyone benefit by the association, even if it was just for a few hours?

After a moment I replied: 'I don't think it would be wise, Paul. You'd better invest your savings in our new company than in one day of luxury. I'd rather just go to the town hall for a licence and to a parish priest and get married there, with a few friends. I think I'd feel like a broodmare if your parents only approve of me to bring some new blood and more magic into the Kenwick-line.

Would they be insulted if we keep it really small?' Paul laughed and said: 'I have not seen my parents in at least five years, I would have to re-establish contact to pull off a big wedding, but I'd do it for you.'

'Then I'd rather keep it very small, I understand why you want to marry me, and I love you even more for it, but nothing will change except my name.'

We cuddled some more, and when I noticed Paul nearly dropping off I watched him fall asleep, always eager to catch the precise moment that he changed from someone nearly ten years my senior to a young man my age.

I saw it happen this time, the years just melted away as his face lost its worry lines and its seriousness, and the boyish features and the unruly curls remained. A month ago I had a hopeless crush on this beautiful man, and now we had been through so many things together and we were engaged to marry.

Only a month. Still I had no problem believing it, having shared our most intimate feelings we knew more about one another than countless couples who had been married for many years. I didn't wait up for Lukas, but snuggled up to Paul and let sleep take me.

The next morning I awoke early, there was a lot to do. Paul's sleeping shape next to me was warm, but not feverish, and part of me wanted to stay close to him and enjoy his feel and scent.

But first I checked if Lukas was there, and he was, in bed but awake, watching us sleep. I looked at him and he smiled at me, his most endearing smile, impossible to resist.

Remembering the past, I held out my arms and whispered: 'Come to me,' and in a second he was in my arms, his musky scent as strong and as pleasant as ever.

We managed to stick to cuddling for about two minutes, and then we both got overheated, and with one look at Paul, still sleeping, we quietly left the large bed and tiptoed out of the bedroom, on our way to my bed for some rough lovemaking.

We were up the stairs in a second, and we hit the bed simultaneously, kissing passionately and touching each others soft flesh greedily. I straddled Lukas and felt him slide into me with a thrill, softly scratching his horns whilst riding his ever increasing thrusts. Neither of us lasted very long, we were both so exited we came nearly together, and Lukas must have had a playful night, for he didn't offer a second round, instead lying against me quietly, letting me stroke him softly. He suggested: 'Let's do this in bed with Paul, a bit of cuddling can't hurt him, can it?'

As we went down the stairs again, I decided to tell him straight away: 'Lukas, Paul asked me to marry him last night, and I told him I will.'

Apparently Lukas could grin even wider, for he did so now, I thought his lip might split for real. He took my face in both his hands and planted a kiss straight on my lips. 'My dear Melissa that is wonderful!' he said, 'I'm so happy for both of you! You were meant for each other. When will you do it, and how do you celebrate a wedding here?'

I replied: 'Usually there is a ceremony in church, and a big party for the whole family with dancing and a lot of food, but we're planning to keep it small, our families are so different, and besides, nothing will change by marrying: Paul just wanted to do it because he realised something might happen to him and then you and me would be destitute, losing this house and what we've built up with our future company to his family.'

By now we were back in the bedroom, and we continued our cuddling on the big bed, talking softly not to disturb Paul. 'I'm glad to hear that, I'd survive without your love now, but life's so much better with the both of you,' he said seriously, then gave me that huge grin again, 'how is he now?'

I replied: 'Almost better, your healing worked incredibly well, but he still needs some painkillers, he insisted on cooking last night and showed me how to stoke the main boiler in the cellar, but after that he was knackered and had to go to bed.

He proposed to me in the cellar, on his knees, between the boiler, a pile of coal and shelves with rations. But how was your night?'

Lukas grinned again, and said: 'I talked over the whole thing with George, then we fooled around some until I was crackling with energy again. Afterwards he wanted me to check out one of the worst kids, so we went to meet them. All of the kids had been cleaned up, and boy did that make a difference.

That Jonathan kid is positively stunning with his hair washed and cut and wearing clothes instead of rags, and with hope in his eyes. The rest were clean as well but they still lack life. I connected with George and picked out one of the two worst ones, a girl.'

Now his happy expression faded a little, and he went on: 'It was sad, Melissa, very sad. That poor girl had no recent memories at all, not even of the last thing she ate, or that water battle on the Nomes' lawn. Nothing.

She did have a barrier and I wore it down until it gave in, which was easy compared to Jonathan's. And her memories were fine, she had lived in a small village with her parents and siblings, on a tiny farm, and her parents hoped to give her a better future by sending her to a boarding school.

Now I know her name was Felicity, but she didn't register it. George of course saw her memories too, so he'll contact her parents, and he'd ask around among all his contacts for someone who might still help her. They'll call her by name now in the hopes it'll stir her memory.'

'This was a sad business, but not really hard on me, so I asked George if we could help another child. He looked at me very critically and decided we could. So we did the oldest girl, the one who handed out the food and water.

She had cleaned up nicely too, only she seemed very depressed. When I touched her I got a lot of memories, more than Jonathan had, she remembered practically everything. Her gift was burned out by the constant draining, and she remembered everything that had been done to her in that place. But the worst thing was, and that was why she was depressed, she had nothing to go back to.

Her parents were deceased, she had been living on the street when that mage found her. Nobody will come for her, living in that wasteland was the happiest she had ever been, because she had Jonathan, and brothers and sisters.

She couldn't remember ever having better food, or being loved better. In her mind, things could only get worse. I dealt with the trauma of her memories, practically all her memories were traumatic, and then George called Frances over to talk to her, to tell her things would get better, that we would make sure they would even though she didn't have any magic left in her.

Meanwhile we met up with Jonathan, checked on him, I had energy left working with George, he is clearly very experienced in magic. I'd like you to take a few lessons from him as well, I guess we will be working together often and he can improve our merge.

If your sleepy teacher over there agrees of course. Anyway, we told him about Laura, that's the name of the girl, that she remembered everything and that being in that wasteland with him was the best time of her life. That rightfully shocked him, and he promised to try to help her become a child again for a short time, which he was planning to do himself, be a child instead of a miniature adult for as long as possible, like a sort of holiday from responsibility.

I applaud him for that, I do it myself whenever I can. But I must admit he didn't seem to have much hope for his friend Laura. I did teach him to ride a bike, he wanted it very much and he was pretty good at it.

Then we had a good square meal and I took the bicycle back here. It was still early and I was bored, so I went to that place where we danced, and went a few rounds with some nice girls until they were giddy. They really liked me there, those girls got me drinks and all, and several wanted more but I told them I'd rather dance, so we did.

Some of the boys didn't like me though, I guess their sisters liked me a bit too much. When I got fed up I cycled home, and since I didn't have a key to the shed I put it in the workshop. I thought you might like to use it today.'

Which I did, I didn't expect Lukas to take it home but I was very glad he had: 'Lukas, so sweet of you to think of that, I was a bit disappointed I didn't have it here, it's so much faster than walking and I need to go to the council building today.'

Now a lazy baritone voice beside us drawled: 'If you're going there anyway, bring a marriage licence, will you? I'd like to get on with it.'

That certainly got our attention, both our heads turned instantly towards Paul, who was propped on an elbow again, looking, well, good. He looked good.

Lukas was with him in an instant, grinning broadly at Paul, saying: 'Congratulations my dear friend, you were made for each other, you will be very happy together.' Paul grinned nearly as broadly, then became serious again: 'Thank you Lukas. Please don't think that I am trying to take Melissa away from you.'

Just as seriously, Lukas replied: 'I will not. Melissa told me why you want to confirm your love with a marriage ceremony, and I love you even more for thinking of us. And now I want you to lie on your stomach for me.'

Of course Paul complied, and Lukas stroked his muscled back with a loving touch, until Paul nearly fell asleep with relaxation. Then we looked at the bullet-wound, now just two days old and already well on its way too healing, thanks to Lukas' extraordinary talent.

Lukas prodded the edges of the wound a little, and Paul didn't even wince. He laid his hand on it for a moment, concentrated, then declared: 'That is as good as healed now. How does it feel?'

'It feels nice, you have warm hands,' was the answer, muffled by the pillow, and, 'seriously, I'm fine, no pain, no fever.'

Paul sat up in one fluid motion and moved his shoulders, flexed his muscles, bent over: 'The scar tissue is a bit stiff, but once I'm back at the forge that'll get supple again soon enough. Or you can massage me again, that was so good.'

At the mentioning of the forge, Lukas tsk'ed and resolutely said: 'No forging for at least a week. Melissa just told me cooking caused you pain yesterday, your back muscles have been torn and need rest.

You can talk as much to George and the council member as you like, and you may boss me around in the workshop, for I need your supervision to finish a few projects that are due this week, and you may accompany Melissa to the council building to get a licence, but absolutely no hammering, working the bellows or lifting.'

In response, Paul hung his head and demurely said: 'Yes doctor. And thank you for saving my life.' Lukas took his chin in one hand and lifted Paul's face to his own: 'Are you fooling me around?' Still very demurely, Paul replied: 'Yes doctor, sorry doctor,' and got his laughing smothered in a kiss.

'I need to go quit my job today, and I need to work on my new job today, and I want to see how those children are doing,' I said. As a reaction, Paul asked me: 'If I accompany you on all three, will you stay with me during that talk with the council member? I don't like to make deals involving our time without at least one of you present.'

'Are you well enough to handle so much action in one day? You were still in a pretty bad way yesterday,' I remarked. He reasoned: 'I can sit down for most of it, it's just the cycling to the council building that is strenuous. We can probably even ride back home with George in the carriage for two of your points.'

That was true, and he added: 'Did George tell you what time they were planning to come here, Lukas?' 'He did, actually,' Lukas replied, 'right after lunch was the intent.'

With that, Paul stirred into action saying: 'All right, I'd like a shower and a nice breakfast before cycling to the town hall, so I'd better get moving.'

He looked at me questioningly: 'Care to join me in the shower?' I sure did, so we went upstairs, whilst Lukas dressed and went to the workshop to start on the jobs still waiting for completion.

You know I pride myself on being a strong woman, able to support myself financially, not prone to hysterical fits or excessive crying, but I have to admit I really liked to have my lover back to his vigorous self, letting him lead the way, having him take me in his arms with his greater physical strength.

We became really intimate under the shower, kissing passionately, touching greedily, but at some point Paul seemed to rein himself in sharply, taking it a lot slower from that moment on. He went back to just looking his fill, admiring my lush shape, kissing my breasts, my throat, my hair, touching me with something like reverence.

Of course I had no problems with being admired like that, what woman would? And it was very easy to admire him back, his elegant figure with subtle but very strong muscles, his wet curls framing a finely chiselled face, but still masculine with its squared jaw and the stubble, now nearly a short beard after two days without shaving.

I don't know how long we just stood there, touching each other carefully, tenderly, but at some time the hot water ran out and the shower turned cold rather suddenly.

We quickly dried each other and retreated to the bed, where we proceeded to make love very, very carefully, not forgetting anything, paying attention to every sensitive spot on the other's body. Even when we finally connected our bodies as closely as our minds, we did not speed up, or become less careful.

The consciousness of still being together after Paul's life-threatening wound was so strong in both of us that it nearly overcame our heat, but in time exaltation did get its short moment of supremacy, and we both reached an intense climax. Still we didn't speed up our actions, neither thinking of anything else but the person in front of him.

We held each other for another ten minutes, and then the real world entered again via Paul's voice asking: 'Do I need your parents' permission? I know you're twenty something, but how old are you exactly?'

'I will be twenty-one September the fifteenth, so I'm not yet twenty-one. That means you'll have to get my parents' permission, doesn't it?' I asked.

Lazily he replied: 'It does. I don't even mind, I'd like to meet your folks. I hope they approve of me. Fortunately we don't need my parents' permission, I turned twenty-one last February the seventh, just before we met.'

Oh my god, he was only twenty-one! If he had told me he would be thirty next year I would have believed him. Of course he expected my surprise, he smiled sweetly and asked, just as sweetly: 'You're not stuck on an older man, are you?'

This time I had to remind myself, not to breathe, but to close my mouth, which I did, instantly.

'You look cute when I've managed to stun you. Anyway, I think they'd approve, but we'd have to take a train or hire a carriage, it's a three day ride to their estate. They're usually not in town in high summer. The smell gets to them,' he said.

Which made me realise his parents were incredibly wealthy, and upper-upper class. He seemed so...normal.

'I am very normal,' he belied his own statement by picking my thought out of my mind, 'it's the rest of the world that is crazy. Do I really look so old to you?'

I told him frankly: 'I like to see you fall asleep, you always shed nearly ten years in a single moment. You told me you were near my own age, but I didn't realise how near, I thought you looked younger when you slept.

It's mostly your posture, the way you present yourself. You're so competent and controlled, you just cannot be a twenty-one year old male, the mind denies it.'

He wrapped me in his arms, and even his embrace was not that of a twenty-one year old boy with his first girl, but that of a man holding his wife. I decided not to think about it, it made me dizzy. Instead I asked: 'Do you plan to get that licence another day, or do you want to see if my folks are in right now, before we go to the council building? I think we can get there in twenty minutes with the bicycles. Are you up to such a ride?'

He replied: 'I think I am, shall we try? Breakfast first, though.'


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

I dressed up for Paul, in the dark green dress that accentuated the colour of my hair, and I wore the copper horses over my perfect cleavage. Of course I left my hair loose, only tying the front part out of my face with a tiny bow in the back.

And after breakfast we did cycle to the house where I grew up, in another working-class neighbourhood, where people dried their laundry from their balconies, and where Paul padlocked our bicycles to a tree in front of my old home. We knocked, and both my parents were in, just awakened after a night shift.

They were very surprised to see me all of a sudden, but I think they were pleased. I said: 'Mum, dad, may I introduce you to Paul Kenwick, my landlord. He's asked me to come and work for him, we are going to design houses and utilities together. He's a master craftsman in fancy metalwork, and he invents useful machines.'

Paul shook hands with my dad and kissed my mother's hand very elegantly, saying: 'Mr and Mrs Thorn, I'm very pleased to meet you.' My mother, always the one in the family who kept up with the society news, replied: 'Very pleased to meet you Mr Kenwick. Any relation to _the_ Kenwick's if I may ask?' Graciously he replied: 'Indeed I am, Mrs Thorn, they're my parents.

Even though my father seemed impressed by such a visitor in his humble home, he also looked a bit suspicious, but still he politely asked us in and offered us coffee.

As we sat at the kitchen table I looked at Paul but couldn't see any signs of discomfort from the ride and the hard chair.

My parents' house had not changed at all, still the same shabby but clean interior. The coffee wasn't half bad, and my mom's cookies were as good as ever. Paul seemed to enjoy himself, of course he had told me before he saw no class, and he proved it now, chatting with them about things most nobles didn't even know existed.

I'm sure my mum was thrilled by his company, such a handsome man with such good matters. But my dad kept a close eye on him, and I think Paul noticed. He asked, quite formally: 'Mr Thorn, do you think it is possible that we talk eye-to-eye for a few moments?' My dad clearly thought that was a good idea, and he invited Paul to the tiny balcony.

When they were out, my mum said: 'What a charming man, you have really struck good fortune having him as a landlord my girl.'

I laid my hand on hers, and said: 'He's not just my landlord, mum. We have been seeing each other for several months now, and Paul has asked me to marry him, we're here to ask your consent.' This was quite a shock to her, but clearly not an unpleasant one.

She looked at me incredulously and said: 'A Kenwick wants to marry you, a working class girl? A gentleman from the most important family in the city? How can that be? You have no money, no name?'

'We're in love, mum, and besides, he's only a youngest son and he works as hard to make a living as I do,' I replied.

'Well, if you both want to, and you're really in love with him, I see no reason why you shouldn't get married, so you have my consent. A Kenwick, with my daughter, I still find that hard to believe.'

Paul and my father had returned, but there was still some mistrust in my father's demeanour, as if he had something on his liver but was reluctant to mention it.

Paul looked at him and said: 'Mr Thorn, you have given me your consent to marry Melissa, and yet I still see doubt written all over you. Won't you spill the beans? I may have a big name, but I work hard for a living, just like you.'

My dad spoke hesitantly: 'That's not it, son, there is a thing I want to discuss with you but dare not, not because your family could break a small man like me, but because no-one, not even your family dare speak of it where others can hear.'

This certainly intrigued me, and both Paul and my mum looked at him as if he'd grown wings. My mum said: 'Come on, Jakob, we're all family now, remember. You can't not trust your own son-in-law.' That decided him, and he said: 'You, young Kenwick, are a practising mage. I can see it, you glow with it. People in my circle told me the Kenwicks have always been mages, and I have always maintained that that is their own business.

But Melissa here is my daughter. She has had a little seed of magic in her since early childhood, but now she glows nearly as brightly as you do. Now you tell me honestly: do you really want to marry my daughter for herself, or do you just want to breed her magic into your family-line?'

The intense silence that followed this question was broken first by my lover, who managed to close his mouth and answer my father: 'Mr Thorn, I admit I practice magic, and that I have been teaching Melissa to control her awakening gift.

I also admit my family will accept her much more easily because of her talent. But I want to marry her because I love her with all my heart, because I want to share my life with her.

Not to please my family, who have given me less love in my ten years life with them than your Melissa has given me in the few months we have known each other.

We have shared power, have shared minds. She knows my feelings for her, as I know hers.' I took his hand and squeezed it, and I saw my mum swallow, I don't know if she was touched by Paul's plea or afraid to have her husband found out as witch, though I hoped it was the first.

My father looked straight at me and bowed his head then looked at Paul again: 'In that case I wish you both the best of luck and happiness together.

And I insist you both visit a meeting to have yourselves shielded so you don't betray your power to every talented witch hunter you have the misfortune to cross paths with. Would this Friday suit you?'

Taken by surprise again, Paul looked at me and I nodded. It had bothered me from the start that anyone with sight would know we had magic.

Learning to hide that could possibly save our lives. I asked: 'Can we bring a friend?'

Dad replied: 'You can, if you can vouch for him.'

'I will,' was my only answer. We would meet at my parents' place, then accompany my father to one of the places where his circle convened. Paul thanked my father for the trust and the invitation, and added: 'We'll be getting our licence now, we'll have someone visit you to confirm your consent, and Friday you'll get an invitation for the real event, and of course your other daughters and their families as well.'

He shook hands with both my parents and I kissed my mum and dad goodbye, got their heartfelt well-wishes, and off we were.

Outside I said: 'Well, that was a surprise I had never expected to get. My father practising magic, and not wanting me to become a broodmare for your family. Are you holding up dearest? Not in pain?'

He looked at me, embraced me and kissed me saying: 'I'm very happy my love, your dad knowing about magic is kind of a relief for me. And you are right that hiding talent is priceless, especially for children not yet able to defend themselves.'

He unlocked the bicycles and we were off, another ten minutes to the council building, then to the town hall next to it, and ten minutes back to the house.

My boss, after taking a good though respectful look at my striking figure, took my resignation in stride, almost as if he was already expecting it.

There was no place to sit in the hall, so I had boldly taken Paul along, and my boss asked to be introduced: 'For I suppose this is the gentleman that you will be working with in the future.'

I was very surprised to say in the least, how could he have known?

Must be gossip from the contractors at the site. Still, I told him: 'Mr Millner, may I introduce you to Paul Kenwick, master-craftsman in metalwork and also inventor of useful conveniences. Paul, this is Mr Millner, chief of building safety for this part of our beautiful city.'

Paul bowed, still a bit stiffly I noticed, and said: 'Pleased to meet you sir, I'm sorry to rob you of one of your most valuable inspectors.'

Mr Millner replied graciously: 'Don't be sorry Mr Kenwick, I had a hunch she wasn't going to stay an inspector much longer. Her talents have developed so quickly, I knew she'd want more. I'm glad you'll be working together, I think you will complement each other very well.

Actually, I've heard of your necklace with life-like running horses from three different people, and three different accounts I may add. But it is even better seeing it in all its glory.'

This looking at the necklace. 'They really do seem to move, and the copper indeed matches Miss Thorn's hair perfectly.

But Mr Kenwick, I've also heard your name mentioned by a colleague from this very building, council member Telling mentioned it in connection with the exposure of the abuse of ten under-age children in the wool factory on this side of the river, and a nasty case of pollution of the river by the same factory, causing numerous deaths.

He seemed to also count on your help starting a boarding school for children from lower classes with special talents in rare professions, at that very site, I hear.

I think you will be a busy man, Mr Kenwick, and your beautiful partner here with you. I hope that you will listen to her as an equal, for we have found she is often right.'

Leaving Paul stunned with his deductive abilities, he turned to me and said: 'Miss Thorn, may I distract you from your tasks once in a while to do a final inspection of an especially sensitive project, for a very fine salary? Really short jobs, very well-paid, with a lot of responsibility, especially suited to your specific talents? Say once a month? It would provide you with a stable financial base.'

I nodded, speechless with the recognition I was receiving from all my former colleagues, and the prospect of doing the easy work for more money.

'I would be happy to, Mr Millner, just send someone over when you need me.'

After this, we took leave and went to the town hall next door. We did not have to wait, for Paul pulled rank shamelessly, using his name to gain us entrance to the office of the highest clerk in attendance.

Here, Paul could finally sit down for a moment in a comfortable chair, which he did with evident relief. We both signed a few forms, I wrote down the address of my parents, Paul paid a substantial sum, and we were out again with a licence.

He said apologetically: 'If I hadn't used my name there, they would have had us cooling our heels for hours, and I am feeling my back now. Cycling in the sunshine will do me good. This guy is from a family close to mine, so my parents will know I'm getting married within a few days. I wonder if they'll let me know they know.

Let's go home, dearest, I want to lie on that soft sofa with you running your hands through my hair.' He pedalled firmly and we were home quickly. I sent him upstairs to the sofa and put the bicycles away by myself. Then I went into the workshop, but Lukas was not there.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Once in the house I found him there, waiting on Paul hand and foot. He had tea ready, and a nice lunch was nearly ready.

We ate in the living-room, Paul eating lying down like a Roman emperor. After half an hour he felt much better, for I had not only caressed his hair, but also massaged the stiffened muscles of his back until they were totally warm and supple again.

Now he was resting whilst Lukas and I cleared up the mess we had made having lunch, brewing a pot of coffee for our guests as well, and some tea for George in case he didn't dare try our coffee.

Before long we heard a carriage, and Lukas went upstairs towards the front door to receive his friend and teacher and our guest, as I brought the tea and coffee and cups into the living-room. Paul sat upright again, assuring me a bit of rest had done wonders.

Pretty soon our guests came in above us, and we could hear their admiring gasps, even though both of them were landed gentry, so they must have been used to having art and wealth around them. Apparently Paul's Gothic palace had that effect on all people, the sheer hours of work that had been put into it just blew the mind, and the total perfection of everything was a rarity even among the wealthy.

George greeted me cordially, shaking hands and hugging me, and when he turned to Paul he was really affected again.

'Paul my boy, why have I never seen this before? This looks like the work of a lifetime, but I'm sure you've only lived here for three years,' he said, kneeling down before Paul to hug him without Paul having to get up.

A shadow of pain flew over my lover's face as he hugged George, just before he looked George in the eye and answered seriously: 'It is because I never invited you, George. And I did the work of a lifetime in three years because I never entertained. But that is all going to change.'

And with that remark he looked straight at me and smiled.

Then he turned his attention to the council member, a tall, broad man, a bit overweight with a full round face and a receding hairline, a very imposing figure that radiated authority and to me, power. He was not handsome, but he dressed fashionably, and he had a friendly appearance despite his aura of power.

I guessed he was a decade or two younger than Sir Nomes, say thirtyish, and he was admiring the house as much as George was, talking to Lukas about it.

Lukas of course presented his usual striking figure, in company of nobility he automatically transformed from the rakish boy into a noble diplomat.

Our guest was obviously impressed by his manners, and treated him with the utmost respect, though as a mage he must have sensed something of Lukas' alienness with his sight.

Now George got up from Paul's side and introduced his two fellow mages to one another: 'Tristan, may I introduce Paul Kenwick to you, master mage in the guardian tradition, master craftsman in fancy metalwork and anything else he sets his mind to, as you can witness in this little palace, inventor, and dear to me as a son.

Paul, may I introduce Tristan Telling to you, adept in the ancient art of high magick, and member of the city council. He has authority over city planning, and he has a proposition for the factory site. Tristan, you know about Paul's injury, I suppose he's not getting up to greet you.'

They shook hands cordially, Paul remaining seated, and Mr Telling said: 'You have an absolutely beautiful house, Mr Kenwick, did you really craft everything in here by yourself, within three years?'

Paul replied: 'I did indeed, but at that time I had little life, so to speak. May I introduce you to the people who have given that to me lately?'

He started with me: 'Mr Telling, this is my apprentice in the arts, Miss Melissa Thorn, a qualified engineer and my business partner as well as my beautiful intended. Melissa, Mr Telling is an adept in high magick, a form of magic as ancient as the Arthurian legends. It is very powerful, and being an adept he has reached the pinnacle of his arts. Besides being a council member that is.'

Mr Telling laughed at this description of his achievements, and shook my hand, saying: 'Miss Thorn, I've heard of your work as a building inspector, but I never realised you studied the arts as well.

And no-one ever mentioned your surpassing beauty, though they did mention your copper necklace with moving horses. It is as beautiful as you, a work of great art.'

I curtsied, and dared comment: 'Word sure gets around in the council building! It must be the excellent coffee drawing everyone to Mr Millner's office to share the news.'

This got a laugh from Mr Telling and then Paul introduced Lukas with his real name: 'Mr Telling, you've already met my apprentice in the mundane arts, Lykos Hermeides, who is also George's apprentice in the less mundane arts and a healer of great talent.

He calls himself Lukas here, but his original descent is Greek. Lukas, Mr Telling is our best hope of preventing situations like the wool factory in the future.

Mr Telling, Lukas has been bearing the brunt of the harm done by the black mage operating in the factory, having healed not only my near-fatal wound, but also the mental trauma of children the mage drained of magical energy then dumped in the wasteland neighbouring his factory.

There were ten captive in his building, but there were ten more children roaming that desolate place for two years, with no memory of who they were, where they were and how they got there.

Lukas has treated three so far, but it is hard on him, being confronted with those horrible memories again and again. And it drains him at a rate that no apprentice can keep up with, so we supply him with power in turns.'

Of course as a mage, Mr Telling knew what that meant, and I saw him eye all of us speculatively, though not in a disapproving way, and he observed: 'Mr Hermeides, you speak English like a native, and your manners are upper class, yet I hear you are from Greece ,and though my vision shows me a well-dressed elegant young man, my sight tells me you're not entirely human. May I ask an elaboration?'

With his polished manners, Lukas invited both gentlemen to take a seat and accept a cup of coffee or tea, and then he sat down himself and said: 'You are an astute observer, Mr Telling, and I have no problem explaining.

I'm what your ancient Greeks called a satyr, I used to have a set of beautiful horns, and my shoes are clamped around my hoofs. My origins lie in a world much like ancient Greece, where my people occupy the coastlines of that worthy state.

My father is an important noble there, and I worked as a herald for another such personage, which is where I acquired my polish. My talent awakened after I was kidnapped and escaped through a portal that led me here by accident.

Melissa and Paul have taken me in and taught me your language and metal working skills, and George is helping me to develop my healing gift. I am probably stuck in this world, but I don't mind, I'm at home now.'

Even for an experienced and high-ranking mage that was a big pill to swallow, I could see Mr Telling struggling with the implications.

That was when George took the lead, saying: 'I'm sure we'll meet often, and we will have plenty of time then to talk of other things than business. But I have fifteen traumatised children in my home, and my wife wants Lukas and someone to feed him magic over there an hour ago.

Besides that, Paul still has a fresh bullet-wound and he may need to rest again soon, so let us get to the point now, and socialise later. If that is all right with all of you?'

All parties nodded. George said formally: 'Tristan, with the introductions behind us I give you the floor.'

And Mr Telling started speaking: 'We have had our suspicions about that wool factory and its owner for half a year now.

The wasteland had been there since the factory was built, and we knew there were some destitute children out there, but to be honest, we see those everywhere in the city. But half a year ago it suddenly vanished from sight, and a black mage started to get active in the city.

Our guess is, that he already stole magic from talented children and dumped the burned out ones in the wasteland, but that he did not accumulate the energy yet. Once he tried to pool the stolen energy he needed to hide his activities with stolen faerie souls, and that is when we got suspicious.

We were just planning to intervene, for news had reached us that talented children were disappearing from all over the country, but it was difficult to infiltrate the building, and we have to operate as secretly as you do, for if we are found out, our heads will roll as easily as yours.

When I felt an overdose of magical energy coming from the factory site I got the watch and went there, expecting to find the black mage active.

Instead he was dead and the children freed, our first task already accomplished by an as yet unknown mage. George here quickly enlightened us to what had happened, and I was surprised to learn you were living in the area itself.

We had plans ready for when the black mage would be out of action, and we'd like to have your support to implement them.

The wool factory is profitable, even with better working conditions for the labourers, so we plan to sell it, clean up the wasteland and build a school there.

The school is to be a boarding school for children from all over the country who have special abilities but are from lower classes. They would develop these talents, say mathematical genius, healing skills, mundane talents that can be developed by proper schooling.

Among these children would be talented youths in need of training, going to school like the other kids and getting special classes in magic besides the normal program. After basic training they would be ready for an apprenticeship with a mage from a particular discipline. Mr Kenwick, would you be prepared to assist us in realising this project?'

Paul was clearly puzzled: 'What would you expect me to contribute, Mr Telling? I have no fortune, I'm only a youngest son, I work for a living.'

Mr Telling replied: 'George has told me, and it is not what we hope to gain from you. We know you are a guardian, and this terrain is within your quarter, so we had hoped you would be willing to protect these talented children from being found out, and from parasites attracted to their budding power.

Also, you might teach some classes yourself, and be a person they can talk to and confide in, since they will spend a lot of time doing things they need to keep a secret.

You might also play a role in the rest of our plans for that land: we want housing for factory workers built there, with modern conveniences like efficient heating. We would hire your firm to provide the innovation.'

Now I could see Paul understood much better, and he said: 'Thank you for the explanation, now I see a possible role for me in these plans. I am certainly interested.

Where will you find the funds to realise all this?'

'We already have a possible investor in George, he is interested in buying the factory and exploiting it, and he wants a share in the school.

Other wealthy magic users want to buy an interest in the school as well, and the city council can spend a bit of money on the project,' was Mr Telling's reply.

'I'm certainly interested in being involved in the project,' Paul said, 'but I have a few questions.'

Mr Telling replied: 'By all means, please let me hear them.'

Paul did: 'What about the children who were saved, will the city take care of the ones who cannot go back to their parents? And how will you clear up the pollution?

And will you take a personal interest in this school, Mr Telling? Will you be teaching some classes yourself, or take an apprentice with lower class origins?'

I was clearly an engaged woman, because a feeling of pride in my intended husband rose in my breast.

He had faced the black mage, had nearly gotten himself killed in a duel, and now he dared ask some really pregnant questions of a very powerful person, his superior both in magics and in stature.

This man could make him or break him, but Paul bluntly asked him if he would take his own responsibility as well as delegate to Paul.

His facial expression left no doubt in my mind that the council member was surprised by Paul's questions. But he stood the test and replied sincerely: 'As to the first question: I frankly haven't thought of those poor children as anything but proof that my theories were right, and that your action in the factory was legitimate.

It never occurred to me that they were someone's children, that they were people in their own right. I'm single you know, I must admit children are strange creatures to me.

Will it please you if I promise to visit George's manor to meet them? Then I'll have a clearer image of what their needs will be. I suppose you're spending a lot of money on food and clothing at this very moment, George?'

George suppressed a smile at his fellow noble's sudden realization and said: 'I am, Tristan, and on messengers to warn the parents, travelling fees for those who cannot afford it, extra staff to wash and clean.

Frances and I had the same abstract image of lower class people, until we met those children and decided it was time we did our share.

Which I might say Paul here discovered a lot earlier in life.'

'When I've visited and met them myself I'll see what I can do within the council,' Mr Telling said, 'as to your second question, I had hoped to share ideas among us to find the best possible way to drain that node.'

'Frances says trees and grass can disperse magical energy quicker than anything, so she'd suggest making a nice little park at that very spot,' was George's comment here.

'I'll dive into my books,' Paul said, 'and maybe Melissa can come up with something, being an engineer.'

I nodded, thinking the three of us might think of a solution, and said: 'I'd have to see it from up close, maybe the structure can be unravelled.'

Paul explained: 'Melissa can see through nearly everything.'

Now Mr Telling spoke again: 'That is a very useful talent. I'll be interested to hear what you find. And as to your final question, you caught me red-handed again, I did not consider taking any interest myself besides investing money.

Investing time was not on my priorities list. But you are right, it should be, and I will think of a possible practical role for myself in the school.

Not having a family of my own makes it even more important for me to stay in touch with society. I thank you for your observations.

Can we make an arrangement immediately for me to visit your place, George?'

'Why don't you come with us straight away?' George said, 'get it over with so to speak? I think we're all coming, if you feel up to it, Paul?'

Paul nodded, and said: 'I have promised Melissa to meet Jonathan, she thinks we have a lot in common. I think she wants me to take him on as apprentice as well. If my back starts to trouble me I'll lie in the grass, or beg a cup of your fabulous coffee from your charming wife.'

That did it, Mr Telling clearly had a weakness for good coffee, how else had such a big fish heard Mr Millner's gossip, and he couldn't resist the bait Paul had dangled before him.

'I think it is an excellent idea to come straight away, George, that way I can see them before they are healed of their trauma, it might do me good.'

I started to get some sympathy for this powerful man, I guessed he must be a bit lonely sometimes, working politics and magic all the time.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

And so it happened that we all went to the Nomes', Lukas offering to ride with Mr Telling in his carriage, and Paul and me in George's familiar one.

We hadn't even set off before George asked Paul: 'Are you two really getting married?'

Paul, pretending not to notice his almost accusing tone, replied quietly: 'We are, George. I asked Melissa to marry me and she accepted my proposal.'

Now George showed his real concern: 'Have you any idea what that will do to Lukas? He needs you, you cannot shut him out, it would kill him.'

I thought that was sweet, and Paul clearly thought so too, for he mildly observed: 'Your concern for Lukas moves me, George, but it is also because of him that I went on my knees with a fresh bullet-hole in my back. That wasn't easy, you know.' He winked at me and continued: 'Getting shot reminded me that if something were to happen to me, my family could claim the house and even the business we're planning to build up together.

I cannot let that happen, I have to provide for the two people I care about most in this world.' I added: 'Nothing will change for Lukas, we'll still love him as we do now. And he'll still have the freedom to love where he wants to.'

This seemed to appease George, and he said: 'I hadn't looked at it that way. Seen like that it is indeed the right thing to do. But please know you'll always have a home with us if anything happens to Paul.'

Of course I knew that, but that was not the way I wanted to live: 'I know we would, George, but I have never been dependent on anyone, and I'm sure Lukas prefers to take care of himself.

And I want to marry Paul for himself, I love him so much I cannot bear even thinking of losing him.'

Saying that of course I saw him fall again, right before my eyes, and I had to swallow hard a few times to force my tears back down.

Paul noticed, and he wrapped me in his arms, stroking my hair. Held against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, I got hold of myself again quickly, but I liked it where I was so I stayed in his arms for the rest of the short trip.

As we turned into the park, George said: 'I'm sorry if I have upset you Melissa, I have come to care a lot about Lukas and I was worried for him. Of course I wish you all the very best, and I congratulate you on finding the person you love most in the world. Will you be having a large affair, with parents and a party?'

Paul replied: 'We would prefer to keep it small, a parish priest, our best friends, a small party.' 'Would you consider having a party in our garden?' George asked, 'I'm sure Frances would love to see you married in our garden, she thinks of you as a son as much as I do. She is very happy to see the two of you together.'

We had now arrived at the house, and Paul replied: 'We'd love that, George, a small party among friends, in a lovely garden, that is everything we could wish for. Thank you so much for the offer. You'll see that Lukas doesn't mind the idea of us marrying at all.'

Then we got out of the carriage, and met up with the others. Together we walked around the house and met the rest of the family in the garden.

Frances didn't spend much time on introductions, she delegated George and Paul to receiving parents coming to pick up their sons and daughters, and quickly abducted Lukas and me to a healing session.

Mr Telling seemed a bit lost with so much bustle around him, until Lukas laid a hand on his shoulder, inviting him along with our party. I thought that he was as committed to making him aware of the lower classes as Paul, only a lot more subtly.

'Where are we going, Frances?' Lukas asked. She replied: 'I thought we'd go to the greenhouse, the garden there is quiet and friendly, perfect for reliving and conquering nasty memories.' When we got there, Jonathan was already present with Laura, and one of the other children, a boy of around twelve.

They had a sheet of paper and a pencil, ready to write down addresses, names and any other particulars Lukas would find out.

Lukas told Mr Telling: 'Mr Telling, I'm going to treat this boy to see if I can fade his traumatic memories of the last year or so a little, and when that is done I'll try to remove the blockade on his older memories.

Then I'll try to find out his name and address, and the name of his parents, so we can send a message to them that their child is still alive and staying here until they pick it up.

After that, it will take weeks for him to get all those regained memories in order, realise they're his own past. Some need a second treatment to help process the memories.'

The council member nodded, and asked: 'Is it all right if I watch?'

Of course that was Lukas' intent, so he replied: 'You are welcome to watch. It may take a while so it is best if you make yourself comfortable.

Please meet Jonathan and Laura, Jonathan has lived in that wasteland for two years, he was the first victim and helped all the others survive. He was their father, providing food, shelter, clothing, and comfort if they were sad. Laura helped him with everything.

And remember, all this time they did not even know their own names or where they grew up, how they got there. They just survived, without hope of things ever getting better, the group of dependent children growing by the month as another catatonic child was dumped on their terrain to live or die.'

I could see this affected Mr Telling, seeing the children in real life did make an impression on him. Jonathan was very good-looking cleaned up and without the burden of responsibility weighing him down. I winked at him, then sat down next to Lukas and got hold of a ley-line.

I saw Mr Telling's eyes widen but I hardly registered his surprise, I was already at work, inviting Lukas to connect our minds, which he did with a sweet smile.

Jonathan led the boy to us, and Lukas invited him to sit with us, which the boy did, a bit apprehensively. Jonathan sat down with us as well, to quiet the boy, who was soon to have his name back.

Lukas now carefully touched him and I felt his talent jump to life. The boy had about half a year's worth of memories, and they were not very traumatic. He remembered little of being dumped, and felt very safe with the little group. Lukas had little stress and fear to wear down, so he soon started to look for the memory barrier.

It was clearly there, and it wasn't very strong, this was a rather placid child who took life as it was, and his memories were freed within seconds. Now Lukas was assaulted by fear, excruciating pain and loneliness, a gaping hole where the parents' love had been. This boy had had a very close bond to his parents, and being deprived of that love had hurt him most of all.

Memories flooded in once more, his name was William, his family name Frost, he was from the city, the only reason he could stand to go to the school was that he was promised visits in the weekend. This must have been one of the missing children whose parents had alerted the council. Lukas found a memory of his address, said it aloud for Jonathan to write down, and then he went ahead to the cells beneath the wool factory.

It was cruel to pull the boy from eating an ice-cream with his parents into a cell where his magical talent was ripped out of him in agonizing pain, but it had to be done, the memories would return as lively as this if not treated. They needed to be worn down.

Which Lukas did, time and time again, until they felt a lot more vague and in the past. Then he broke the contact, and as Jonathan and Laura listened to the boy telling them his name, and that his parents lived very close, in the city, I caught Lukas as he toppled with weariness.

I held him in my lap, cradling him like a newborn, stroking his curls. I checked his energy level and topped it to its original state, then continued to caress Lukas until he came to, quietly watching the scene in front of him from my arms, the child he had helped sharing his happy memories with his friends, Laura listening patiently but with a sadness still about her, Jonathan aware of that sadness, addressing it by caressing her whilst listening to the boy's happy chatter and commenting on his memories.

The boy's happiness was scant payment for Lukas, living all those memories with him, time and time again, and after him another child and another child.

Was it too much to ask of a young man, or was he ideally suited to this, because of his rakish character, able to spring back into cheerfulness after feeling so much misery? I didn't know, but I was sure I would ask him, tonight, or the next time we were alone or with Paul.

I was shaken from my worried reverie by Frances' cheerful voice calling us: 'Lukas, Melissa, I've coffee and cakes for you! Can I offer you some too, sir?'

This at the council member. The council member! I had totally forgotten him in the intensity of the procedure, but it appeared Lukas hadn't.

He looked up from my shoulder at Mr Telling, smiled at him amiably and said: 'Now you're going to get a totally new experience Mr Telling, Frances' coffee is, well, I lack the language skills to describe it, so I'll just call it special.'

Following Lukas' line of sight, I saw an expression closest to awe on Mr Telling's face, and I was sure it wasn't the expectation of Frances' coffee that put it there. This might be the most powerful man in the city, and he looked at Lukas in incredulous awe.

When he was able to speak again he said: 'Please call me Tristan, Lukas, may I call you Lukas? And you too, Melissa, please?

I can't be Mr Telling to you anymore, apprentices yet, who put my commitment and magic skills to shame. I have never seen anything like that in my life, that boy was not really in this world with us, and watching him I saw him come alive, then all kinds of emotions, agonising ones, but happy ones as well, played across his face, until you broke the contact and he was an ordinary boy.

And the cost to yourself, are you sure it is safe to go so deeply?'

Without realising it, Tristan was giving Lukas exactly what he needed, love. Not physical love of course, but this kind of deep appreciation, and the realisation that lower class children were worth loving too, those were powerful emotions that clearly fed Lukas' need to be loved.

Though I felt Tristan's eyes on me, I continued to hold and caress Lukas, he needed that and I was my own person, had never bowed to propriety.

Let him think what he will, it was a private matter anyway. But Tristan was soon to be distracted, for Frances handed him a cup of her extraordinary coffee, and he sipped it absently.

Poor, poor man, he was destined to have his feelings shaken up that day, and this was only occasion number three, counting Paul's confronting questions.

The taste of the coffee hit him like a board, and his broad face was a study in expressions of surprise and delight.

I felt Lukas squeeze me lightly, he was enjoying himself hugely, the strain of the healing almost forgotten. Tristan complimented his hostess on her excellent coffee of course, and they exchanged some coffee talk.

Lukas and I both took our own coffee and the accompanying cakes, and the caffeine and sugar revived Lukas enough for him to get up and join the three children he had helped.

They welcomed him with a hug and a cheerful greeting, as I prepared to answer some personal questions from Tristan, I could see them rise to the surface as soon as Lukas removed his presence.

And to be sure, he did ask them, though clearly embarrassed: 'I thought you were engaged to Mr Kenwick, but you seemed rather intimate with Lukas just now. And how come you can use ley-lines, Mr Kenwick told me you're his apprentice?'

Suppressing my urge to tell him it was none of his business, I answered him patiently: 'As to the ley-lines, one day I reached for Paul's energy to make a fire-ball, on his request I might add, he did teach me mage-etiquette.

And I got hold of another source of power without intending to, shaping a fireball out of it. We discussed it with George and Frances, and they said if I could control it just to use it, but to stay away from the node.

As to your other question, I feel that whom I am intimate with or not is between me and my intended, but since we're on first-name basis now, I might as well tell you.'

I am happy to say that our new acquaintance looked rather ashamed now at his blunt question, but I took pity on him and sent him a dazzling smile, then said: 'Lukas has told you about him being from a different dimension.'

Tristan nodded, and said: 'He told me more in the carriage, how you saved his life and how Paul helped him to become independent financially.'

So I explained: 'Lukas doesn't love according to our Victorian standard, he loves who he wants to, as long as the feeling is mutual. He needs a lot of love, especially when working magic. You know the intimacy of sharing power?'

Did Tristan look a little sad admitting the following? 'I know about it, I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing it myself, yet.' Ah, another one of those, I thought amusedly, not forgetting to rank myself among them, and hit him with another truth: 'Paul has shared power with Lukas when he needed it after performing a healing.

Lukas is very easy to love, and he doesn't claim. Paul learned a lot from him. 'I would not have told him this if I hadn't had the feeling we would very quickly become quite close to this likeable, outspoken man.

A few months ago I would have denied a hunch like that, but I had also learned a lot, and now I just accepted it as a fact and acted accordingly, allowing Tristan into our lives as if he belonged there already.

Tristan looked at me wistfully, and said: 'I guess I was just a bit envious to see all of you so close to one another, I've been alone most of my life, sent to school at the age of seven, too busy and too shy later to make friends or find a girl. Now I feel as if my time has passed.'

See, I knew my hunches were usually right.

I took one of his hands, I admit a rather daring gesture but he seemed to need it, and observed: 'Paul was not much different, nor I, before Lukas came into our lives. We worked hard and had little time to socialise.

Now we still work hard but we take time to do fun things and we risk loving another person, and it has made us a lot happier.

Your time has not passed at all, it has just started. Come, let's find Paul and George and see how many of these refugees have been taken home by their parents. As soon as Lukas has recovered I'm guessing he will want my help to treat another one of those youngsters.'

Tristan seemed rather sorry that I let go of his hand, but he said cheerfully: 'You're right, if Mr Kenwick met you not so long ago there is still hope for me, I guess we're much of the same age, though he is really good-looking.'

I didn't set him to rights, I still couldn't believe Paul was just a year past twenty. Instead, I went towards Lukas' little group and asked: 'Lukas, are you all right for now?' I hoped I had given my question enough of a charge to inquire whether he needed to pay the real price of the healing already, or if he was comfortable waiting a little longer.

He hugged me closely, whispering in my ear: 'I'm fine now, but I've found the perfect spot for after the second healing. Can I tempt you to indulge me later?' I breathed in deeply to smell his sun-enhanced scent, and whispered back: 'You most certainly can. Can I leave you with Laura for a moment?'

He nodded and said: 'I wanted to see her alone anyway, she's still depressed.' I looked at him intently and said: 'No healing without me or George, and remember, she'll claim you if you so much as touch her.'

He replied: 'Trust me, I know her type, I just want to talk to her, tell her about building a life of one's own.'


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Reluctantly we broke our embrace, and I asked Tristan to have a little more patience with me.

But he seemed content to watch everything about him, Lukas and me, the children, the lovely garden.

Now I had to get Jonathan interested in coming with us, so I observed truthfully: 'Jonathan, you look ravishing, you cleaned up really well.'

He really was a sixteen year old or thereabouts now, for having a beautiful older girl compliment him made him blush over his ears. That made me glad, for it meant he was not totally self-controlled, somehow I still feared for his future, saw him walk the wrong road.

Exposure to Paul, and to Tristan for that matter, would be the saving of him in my opinion. So after his: 'Thank you' I asked him: 'There is someone I'd like you to meet, will you come with us to find Paul, the person I love best in this world?'

Since boys will be boys, I was not surprised when he asked bluntly: 'I thought Lukas was your man.' Looking at Tristan with a helpless expression, I replied just as bluntly: 'I love Lukas and he loves me, but he is no-one's property,' adding in a jesting tone: 'and as you'll see, Paul is totally mine.' Jonathan didn't seem to get it, but Tristan did, which was what I was aiming for.

Now Tristan managed to get a word in: 'Jonathan, is it true you didn't remember anything when you were dumped in that wasteland next to the wool factory?'

Though Jonathan could of course see the magical power in the tall, well-dressed man asking him a question, he also seemed to realise the worldly power he possessed, for he answered almost meekly: ' Yes sir, I awoke all alone in the filth, everything hurt, my body, my head, my soul.

It was not that I felt rejected or lonely that my soul hurt, it physically hurt, as if someone had tried to pull it out of me. I was weak, near death, and survived only because my body wanted to very much.

I knew nothing, no name, not who I was or what had happened. I drank from a puddle, ate what my body told me to, and survived all alone for a month, gaining strength but howling in pain inside at being so alone.

Then Laura was dumped, and I remembered not to go near the guy leaving her. Not why, just not to go near him. Maybe it was instinct, for I could still talk and find food, and knew to dress against the cold, so I must have remembered that somehow.

Anyway, she was physically better than me but her soul was worse. She had no life in her. I tried to help her find it back, as I had found it trying to survive, but she never did.

I hope Lukas can help her, he seems to understand her better than me. Still, she was sweet and I was no longer alone. More children came and then we were so busy taking care of them that she improved, but now she's no longer needed she is falling back rapidly.'

Now Tristan said something that impressed me: 'Do you think she might have lost her soul before she was ever caught by that black mage?'

This clearly struck Jonathan as true, and he replied: 'I did not, sir, but now you mention it, I recognise it as the truth. She has not one single happy memory. Taking care of those rejected kids without memory was the happiest time in her life.'

This really hit home with Tristan, but his voice didn't give away his emotion as he said: 'Jonathan, would it be possible for you to call me by my first name, Tristan, as Melissa here does?'

Jonathan nodded and automatically said: 'Yes si..I mean Tristan. It will be difficult for me, I was taught to talk to grown-ups in a certain way.''

Here, Tristan observed: 'I understand, but to me you are more grown-up than most adults I know. What you did is unparalleled, you deserve all the respect a man can give you. I find it hard to accept deference from you.'

And him a noble, an adept and a council member!

He wasn't done yet: 'I'm sure you will find your way, but I promise you I will do everything in my power to find a place and an occupation for Laura that will keep her busy and as happy as she can ever be.

I think she needs to take care of others before she can be happy herself, and there are places where someone can be taught to do that for a living.'

This was another load off the boy's shoulders, and I really wanted to hug Tristan, but I was afraid it would make a totally wrong impression so I checked myself.

Jonathan was controlled by disposition, but he went as far as to lay a hand on the tall man's arm, and said: 'Thank you so much, Tristan. You are right, I will be fine, but I truly worry about Laura. I am all she has ever had, but like Lukas, I will not be claimed, I cannot be her property.

Her life and mine will have to separated for the good of both.'

Tristan and I looked at one another, and I'm sure we both thought just one thing: 'Grown-up.'

By now we had passed by the house, and we were on our way to the lawn in front of it, where the children were playing.

Tristan asked: 'Are these all rescues?' I said: 'The boy near adulthood is Marcus, George's only son, and the girl who is 'it' is Bertha, his youngest daughter.

He has two other daughters, Ilsa, the eldest, and Julia, who is two or three years Marcus' junior. I don't see them here, though I'm sure Frances has them helping out with so many guests. They don't have that many staff.'

'This is a lovely place to live,' Tristan mused, 'so peaceful. Some on the council want George to sell to let the city grow, but I say the city needs this haven of clean air. I wish I had more than only a house with a garden, though my estate is nice as well. It's a day's ride from here.

Anyway, it would never be complete without a family.'

Now, Jonathan broke his musing: 'Look, Felicity is watching the ball!' A girl of about twelve, one of the catatonic cases, was indeed following the ball with her head, and she was even smiling.

'Lukas treated her yesterday, with George, but he couldn't find any memories since she was rejected. She was drained so far it damaged her brain. But he did find memories from her youth, and her name, and it seems the other children playing stirs something in her,' Jonathan was truly happy to see this. 'They've sent for her parents, with a warning she was hurt mentally. Who knows if she'll ever recover.'

At that moment I saw Paul coming around the house and I felt my little thrill.

I waved at him and he turned my way immediately, accompanied by George and Ilsa. I couldn't help hugging him, and then I hugged Ilsa as well, saying: 'Good to see you again, Ilsa.

She replied: 'Glad you're here, it's a madhouse. Mum makes me work for my living now, and I've you three to thank for that.'

Of course she said that with a smile, for she looked really happy, and not at all disturbed by Paul's presence.

I decided to introduce Jonathan to Paul first, and hoped Tristan would not be insulted: 'Jonathan, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to Paul Kenwick, my magic's teacher and the love of my life. And Paul, this is Jonathan, whom I've wanted you to meet since I first got to know him.'

They shook hands, and measured one another, then Jonathan spoke first: 'I congratulate you, sir, for having been chosen by such a gorgeous woman.'

The little sneak, was that payback for making him blush just now? But Paul answered him as if he had truly meant it, was he seeing too much, or I too little?

'Thank you Jonathan, I'm very aware of being a very fortunate man. Though it seems you have made quite an impression on her too.'

I could see they were hitting it off as I'd hoped, so I left them to joke about me in relative privacy, turning towards Tristan. Who looked dumbfounded rather than insulted.

I followed his gaze to find it resting on Ilsa, who was watching the children play, and commenting on it to her father.

She did look rather nice, a beautiful woman next to her handsome father, young, unattached, of a noble and very sociable family, where an adept could be himself without having to fear being found out and persecuted for practising magic.

It would be so fitting, but he was at least thirty, not handsome at all, just very friendly and smart, and I was convinced, eager to be claimed and possessed. Would his power and influence in politics count for this family?

I had no clue, but I knew he would never be introduced to her in the right way without my help. I put an arm on his shoulder, and gently pushed him towards her.

He looked at me in alarm, but he clearly also possessed that total facial control that seemed inherent in males with a lot of magic, for when I gave him a reassuring smile he rearranged his face to show polite interest. I couldn't help commenting on this: 'Bravo Tristan, you're as good as Paul and George at hiding your real feelings.

Make sure you pick the right time to reveal them though, or she'll never know you like her. She's single, just recovering from a love gone sour, eager to make love again, but very afraid to fall in love again, if you catch my meaning.

I'll introduce you, trust your good sense to do the rest.'

And with a few steps we were standing next to Ilsa. I touched her shoulder and she turned, and I could have sworn I saw something fall into place inside her, too.

Still, I said to her: 'Ilsa, may I introduce Tristan Telling to you? He's actually your father's friend, but I thought it would look better for him to be introduced by a young person.

Tristan, this is George's daughter Ilsa, we are planning to hit the dance-floor soon with our mutual friends. Maybe you can come too.'

Ilsa took both Tristan's hands in a gesture far too intimate for the occasion, but I don't think he noticed, as she said: 'Mr Telling, Tristan, I've heard so much about you from papa, I'm very pleased to finally meet you.

I had expected papa to bring you with him much earlier, he usually brings every young man he does business with to visit us, but I suppose you were never able to make it.'

With a shamed face he admitted: 'I made up excuses every time he asked, telling him I was too busy or engaged elsewhere, when in fact I was at home alone, loathing myself for not daring to accept a simple invitation to dine with a friend's family.

Social occasions make me feel uncomfortable.'

I decided this was the right time to leave them to themselves, and hope things would turn out well. Paul and Jonathan were still deep in conversation, looking out over the lawn with playing children, so I decided to check on Lukas, see if he was still feeling well.

But on my way to the greenhouse I got company from George, who asked me: 'I hope you didn't get the idea that I was opposed to Paul marrying you, my dear.' I looked at him, saw real concern in his handsome face and told him: 'Of course not, it was clear that you were just worried about Lukas.

I shared my worries about shutting Lukas out with Paul at the very moment he proposed, and he told me loved me far too much to break my heart by doing that.'

'I'm very relieved to hear that, and I'm truly happy that Paul finally found someone he wants to share his life with,' George said, 'it was heartbreaking when he shut the world out and only lived to work on his house and study.

To be honest, Tristan reminds me of him sometimes, he also seems bent on living in his mind alone, forgetting he has a heart as well. I was glad to hear you and him using first names, did he ask you to?'

I replied: 'He did, he had observed Lukas healing one of the boys, had seen the life return to him, and he saw Lukas crash in my arms with fatigue afterwards. It made an impression on him. And talking to Jonathan did too.'

'I believe that boy has a crush on you, he couldn't wait to see you again with his hair washed and cut, and in decent clothes,' George observed. That was quite shock to me, for if he did, he'd be doubly disappointed right now.

I said: 'You're kidding, I hope? I complimented him on his good looks, but after that I spent half an hour caressing Lukas back to life after the healing, mentioned off-handedly that I was going to get married, and when he asked me to explain my intimacy with Lukas I bluntly told him I loved Lukas, but was going to marry a man who didn't mind being claimed.

That would have hurt the poor boy.'

George laughed at my description and observed: 'No, I'm afraid he really has a crush on you, but he is well aware you are much older than him, and if he thought you were seeing Lukas he already knew you weren't free, even if he pictured you with the wrong guy.

And if he decides to cast his lot in with the three of you, he'll find out how things really are sooner or later.'

This confused me quite a bit, and I really wanted to talk to Paul right now, so I decided to interrupt his talk with Jonathan, and told George I was going to do so.

He said: 'Good luck, they seem to have taken a real liking to each other, good for the boy! He could do worse than follow Paul's example. As could Tristan.'

Now I could surprise George, so I told him: 'I guess Tristan is well on his way, the reason I introduced him to Ilsa instead of letting you do it was that I caught him staring at her in admiration. I gave him some good advice and threw him in the deep end.'

And indeed, I had surprised George, but pleasantly, for Tristan was a good match for any noble girl. I spotted Paul and Jonathan quickly, planning to listen to their conversation for a while until they'd notice my presence.

But I'm afraid the boy really was infatuated, for he spotted me even before my sweet lover did. Jonathan asked: 'Will you be treating another one of my children today?

Paul wants to watch this time, he tells me he's never been present yet when Lukas healed someone.' I thought of the time Lukas had healed Paul, but I suppose that didn't count.

I replied: 'He certainly is planning to do so, do you have anyone in particular in mind? I was just going to find Lukas, but first I need to talk to Paul for a few minutes.'

Jonathan quickly offered: 'I'll find him, and I'll find one of the children still waiting to be healed. There are six left, including the boy who's like Felicity. She smiled again.'

And off he was, running fast, as boys like to do.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Finally I could embrace my lover as I wanted, and we kissed for good measure. I took a good look at him, and asked: 'Are you holding up? You've been on your feet the whole afternoon, maybe you should lie down in the grass for a while.'

He nuzzled my neck and said: 'If you stay with me, if I let you go now that charismatic boy will have you under his spell in a second. You do realise he has quite a crush on you? He told me so himself.'

I found a nice grassy place to lie down in, and took him down with me. 'George told me, if I had known I had told him about you a little less nonchalantly. Was he very hurt?'

Paul laughed and replied: 'He was not, he knew you were not for him, he just likes to look at you and remembers fondly how you held him when he was filthy and in tears. I guess you're just a very sexy mother figure to him.'

By now we were both lying in the grass, Paul clearly relieved to take the weight off his back for a while.

I stroked him gently, my perfect man, and he just enjoyed it, trying to get as much rest as he could. I said: 'Paul, Lukas wants to do another healing this afternoon, and then..' it was hard this time, with Paul lying there, in pain.

'Then he has a price to pay, I know my love. I try to imagine the things he goes through each time, and I just cannot.

When I needed him he was there for me, you both were, and now he needs you. I want to be there when he does the healing, I need to see it for myself. He must be suffering, the way people describe him afterwards, Melissa, is it really so bad?

Those children can wait a few more days, they're not dying. Maybe we should talk to him about it, he may be in pain over this.'

'We'll talk to him tonight, I've also been thinking it may be too much. But he really wants to do this, and it is impressive to watch him battle those demonic memories. You once told me Lukas is a lot wiser and stronger than he seems to be, and I think this time it has to be me reminding you of that,' I said, snuggling against him and holding him close to me, until Lukas and Jonathan came looking for us with an apprehensive girl in tow.

Walking back together towards the greenhouse, I saw Paul close to Lukas, not so much talking as just being together.

I decided to play the mother role towards Jonathan, walking close and putting an arm around him. 'How are you holding up, Jonathan? Still feeling responsible?,' I asked him, feeling his slim form tense a little, then relax.

He looked at me and now I recognised it, they were right, this boy on the edge of manhood had chosen to trust me with his love: 'I'm fine, my body is satisfied with the good food, and rest, and one by one all my charges are becoming friends instead of worries.

Except Laura, she still worries me, but Tristan has promised to take her off my hands. Do you think he can really do that?'

I told him: 'If he promises, he surely will, he is a powerful man but very sensitive underneath I think.'

'Like your man. I like him, can't help liking him, but I suppose I'm too young to really fall in love anyway,' he said, more to himself than to me. I thought: with the things you've been through Jonathan, I don't think you're to young for anything.

But of course that wouldn't help, so I kept that thought to myself.

And asked him: 'I thought you were going to be a child for some time?'

'I was, but I constantly find myself thinking of when you held me in your arms. It felt so warm, and so safe, and you didn't mind that I was filthy or that I was a sixteen year old crying like a baby.' He was so sweet, so honest.

I said: 'Jonathan, you're not in love, you just need love. You have not had love for over two years, you just want to be held by someone who loves you. And you most certainly didn't cry like a baby, you cried like a sixteen year old who had taken care of a whole family of disabled children whilst being disabled himself, through two winters, without any means of getting adequate food or drink or clothing or shelter.

You don't even realize how extraordinary that is. You didn't lose even one, not even the ones who didn't eat by themselves. Most people would have given up immediately, you stuck it out and when someone took over, you cried in relief, and in grief over what you didn't remember you had lost. You are the strongest person I know, no exceptions, and though I cannot make love to you, I can love you, a lot, and I can cuddle you and hug you as much as you like.

And yes, if you feel like it, you can cry again.

You thought being a hero is painless? You thought council member Tristan Telling lets any sixteen year old call him by his first name?

Did Paul offer to teach you magic?'

'He did,' Jonathan said, 'but I'm afraid it may be too painful to see you two together.'

I did not want to lose this boy to a misplaced idea of what love was, so I asked: 'Do you want to test it?'

He didn't understand: 'Test what?' I replied: 'Test whether you're just looking for love, or whether you are really in love with me.'

He asked: 'How?' I laughed and said: 'It's easy, you sit on my lap, I hug you, and stroke your hair, and if you want to go further than that, you know, touch my breasts, go between my legs, you're in love. I you don't, you just need the kind of love I can give you.'

Seeing his face when I mentioned sexual acts really superficially, I had my answer already, he was clearly still a child, disgusted by the idea of having sex. But he needed to find out for himself, so I awaited his answer, sure he would want to try it out, would want to feel loved again.

We walked on in silence, and suddenly he said: 'I do need to know, it feels so real but the idea of making love appals me.'

So I sat down on the nearest patch of grass, and held out my arms to him. He was in them in a second, head on my chest, arms around me. I held him close to me, and did indeed stroke his hair, now clean, and his beardless face. He felt like a boy to me, and smelled like a boy to me, and it felt good to just comfort him.

He did not tense, and he did not speak, and when I felt him shake a little in my arms I looked at Paul and Lukas meaningfully and they walked on. They'd wait for us.

It felt like a long time before he looked up at me, his eyes red, a tear still wet on his cheek. I wiped it away with my hand, and kissed him on his forehead.

He leaned back against me again, at peace now, convinced he wasn't in love with me, convinced he could stay and learn magic from the man I loved.

I still stroked his hair, it felt like the right thing to do, give some innocent love to this boy who had been forced to act like a man for such a long time.

He was waiting for his voice to return to normal, and then he said: 'You were right, I just needed to be held, to be loved like a child, not like a man. It was really good to cry without upsetting anyone, I feel much lighter now. Will you hold me again sometimes?' I just said: 'I will.'

And then we both got up and walked to the greenhouse together, where I kissed Paul, then sat on the ground with Lukas and reached for the ley-line.

Lukas brushed my mind with his and I connected us, and Jonathan brought the child and sat with us. It was a wary-eyed girl this time, a bit older than the boy and less placid.

Jonathan had to calm her down before Lukas could touch her, and I again wondered how he managed to be so collected at his age. Then Lukas touched her, and all hell broke loose.

First Lukas was assaulted by recent memories, of loneliness, of missing something she couldn't remember, of hunger, cold and aches everywhere, but especially of fear, fear of the dark, fear of people passing by, fear of an unknown shape hovering over her, a shape that left children at the edge of the wasteland?

This child had experienced the deprivation and hopelessness of her time in the wasteland much more acutely. Lukas was already wearing it away, going over it again, and again, until it receded a little, then a lot.

The memory barrier became visible, and Lukas patiently started grinding away at it. It was huge, and strong, as if the girl wanted to forget what had happened in the past, but she needed to remember her name and that of her parents, so there was nothing for it but to continue. I replaced a lot of magical energy, this girl was burning Lukas up at an incredible rate.

He was nearly through the barrier now, and I started to feel uncomfortable. But right at the moment that I wanted to call this session off, fearing what might be dammed up behind that solid barricade, he broke through, and we were both overwhelmed by a flood of memories, and everything went black.

When I came to with a nasty smell in my nose, I saw Tristan looking at me with concern in a pair of friendly eyes, holding a bottle of pungent herbs to my nose.

Tristan? Where was Paul? I called out for him, and Tristan said: 'Paul is with Lukas, he can't get him to wake up.'

I felt for the connection in my mind, and it was still there, but blank, silent. I wrestled myself up and kneeled by Lukas' side, his face slack and lifeless, his breathing shallow.

His hand still touched the girl, who was in Jonathan's arms, motionless but breathing stronger than Lukas. I sat next to Lukas, and next to Paul who held him, touched his face with both hands and followed our link down, into the blank space, calling his name frantically.

For what felt like a long time I was calling, searching to no avail before I got the idea to use sight. I stepped over the implications of using sight in a virtual space, I just did it, and immediately saw Lukas, trapped in a maelstrom of horrible memories.

I stuck my hand in, then my arm, and got hold of him, pulled him out. I wanted to go back to the now, but he was adamant he had to solve this, so I balanced his magical energy with power I took from the nearest source, which I hoped was Paul's but really didn't care anymore, then helped him slow the maelstrom down.

We managed together, and with the memories coming at him at a reasonable speed he identified them and put them in their place.

Neglect, loneliness, agony due to the forceful draining of her magical energy, physical abuse, Lukas still had the will and the energy to face them all with her, again and again, countless times, until they became less strong and he could go further back in time, to her youth, to search for good memories, and for her name and where she had come from.

Lucy was her name, Lucy Smith, and she was from a slum in this very city. She had been stolen away from her home and abused for nearly a year by a man who hired her out to men looking for really young girls.

When her talent blossomed she had been bought by the black mage, a horrible change in fate for a child already damaged beyond belief.

As the experience of the repeated rape hit Lukas' mind, I felt him recoil in abhorrence as he had not from any other kind of abuse so far. I realised that somehow the idea of forcing sex on someone was alien to him, something he had never even heard of.

And now he was experiencing rape as if it was happening to himself, living the memories of a twelve-year old girl together with her, a horror beyond belief to someone who thrived on love. I expected him to flee the scene and curl up in misery somewhere, but he managed to pull himself together to face even this abomination, going over the memories of it again and again, until they had faded just a little bit, and they could go further back still.

There were some nice memories in her life, but they were very old and clearly from very early childhood. There was no address to be found, but the names of her parents were John and Marcy. John Smith, not much good to find a girls' father in a slum.

To end his treatment on a positive note, Lukas searched for a happy memory that would help her build a future, and he found it in her love for animals. This would give the Nomes' a lead to help her cope with her past, and maybe start a new, better life.

I felt Lukas break the connection, and could only just prevent him from blacking out again.

Back in the now I was afraid to find him blacked out after all, but he was the opposite. He was very much awake in Paul's arms, and his incredible need nearly overwhelmed my mind, it blazed in his usually so friendly eyes.

But it didn't frighten me, I knew what I had to do, so I wrapped my arms around him and softly asked him: 'Where?'

'Over there, a path, an open space,' he panted. I looked at Paul and he said: 'I know where it is, can you walk? I'll carry him there.'

Looking straight at him, I asked: 'Can you handle that, physically and mentally?' He replied: 'You took my energy, remember, I saw most of it through you. It was horrible, I need to be there too, nothing can be worse than that.'

So all three of us left the greenhouse garden towards the place Lukas had chosen, Paul carrying Lukas, me behind them.

I looked back and saw Jonathan holding the girl, Lucy, with Tristan hovering over both of them protectively. That man had sure been shaken today, I hoped Frances would give him some more of her coffee to settle his nerves.

We soon reached the open space, it was beautiful, surrounded by birches, covered with lush green grass. Paul carefully laid Lukas down in it and nearly fell over next to him, face showing some pain but not much.

I kneeled between the two of them, not knowing what to do.

Paul said: 'I'm fine, see to him,' so I did. Lukas was awake and aware, but in a really strange state of mind, nothing I recognised.

I opened my mind to him, hoping to find out what was ailing him. He held out his arms and I embraced him gently, expecting him to want to make love roughly, as he usually did when he had healed someone.

But he didn't want that this time, something was blocking him, but his need was so overwhelming by now that I decided to stroke him, just to be doing something. That helped a little, he eased a bit, so I scratched his horns really softly, really lovingly.

He relaxed even more, and his thoughts became more coherent. He had been struck so hard by the sexual abuse, to him it was a perversion of what gave him life, and it blocked him from making love, that would bring the abuse back instantly, souring the love it was meant to give. He needed love in other forms to pick him up a little, and he was sure I would recognise the stage in which he would be ready for a little physical loving again, but receiving, not taking, not this time.

This I could work with. I made myself comfortable on his one side, and asked Paul to lie on his other side, and to check his energy levels.

With our connection now three ways, I could feel the energy being restored, which helped a great deal to revive Lukas. It was no task to show Lukas our intense love for him, for he could feel it straight in our minds. By now, Paul knew what ailed him as well, and he came forward magnificently, showing all his tenderness towards his dear friend, stroking his hair, scratching his horns and opening his shirt a little to caress the narrow but muscular chest.

When Lukas had accepted this level of intimacy, Paul started playing with the little hairs on his chest, carefully licking a nipple, and when that produced a shiver of pleasure, the other one.

Seeing Paul caress Lukas turned me on again, just like that one time after Ilsa's visit, but of course this was way too early to do anything with my lust.

I continued to scratch Lukas' horns softly, as Paul moved a little lower, removing Lukas' pants very slowly, very softly, no dominant gestures, no force of any kind, just stroking and caressing.

Now he tickled the little curls on Lukas' stomach, moving down really slowly, avoiding his still flaccid penis just yet, rather stroking the incredibly developed muscles on his upper leg.

'When did you get these huge muscles, Lukas?' Paul asked softly, 'last time I felt your legs they weren't this large, were they?'

He massaged them softly, and Lukas started to get into it now, forgetting parts of his nightmarish experience, finally turned on by Paul's incredibly gentle stroking and kneading.

Lukas managed to speak in a very breathy voice: 'Told you I build up stamina quickly, same with muscle.'

As soon as that was out, he wanted to kiss me, and of course I was really glad to oblige, intensely happy to see the life come back into him. Meanwhile, Paul was still fondling his legs, his hocks, the rims of his hoofs, which brought Lukas even further back from his shocking memories. I could see his penis was now upright, eager for attention too.

And Paul did indeed move towards that area now, still stroking his legs, still admiring the packed muscles with his hands, and finally his tongue. Being caressed by Paul's tongue so close to his most sensitive parts exited Lukas even more, and he even got a few licks over his testicles and the shaft of his member, but not yet where it usually counted.

The expectation brought him even further out of his misery and the horrid memories of the abused girl, and he relaxed even more. His mind was filled with love now, and a part of it was being replaced by lust, slowly but steadily.

Now Paul tilted Lukas' slim body a tiny bit, and stroked his firm buttocks and the cute little tail above it, feeling through the cleft between his two butt-cheeks really slowly, caressing his testicles softly from behind. This caused Lukas to shudder once more, still heating up.

Paul now moved his hand over the long muscle of Lukas' back, up over his shoulder, and on to his face, where he licked the dented lip heatedly, then kissed Lukas tenderly and very lastingly, until I felt both their excitement rise to a level above fondling.

Deeming the time ripe for giving Lukas something more physical, I moved towards his midsection and very, very slowly moved my tongue over the head of his penis. I could feel it was not too much, it produced a surge of pure lust, and another lasting kiss with Paul.

They had their hands in each other's hair now, and when Paul started to scratch Lukas' horns more firmly, I could feel him move beneath me, another stage was reached.

I went from licking to enveloping it in my mouth, first a bit, then more and more, until he started to pant a little, and the heat in our minds was taking over from love.

Paul kissed Lukas once more, and then in a heated but otherwise normal voice Lukas said: 'I'm doing well, go, indulge yourself, I can handle it.'

And with that I felt Paul's hand lifting up my skirt, and his mind posed a clear question, not in words, but in feelings, which I responded to with pure lust. Soon he was kneeling behind me as I was still enjoying Lukas lying still for once, to let me mouth his penis in its full glory, maybe even until he came. And on top of that I felt my undies being moved aside, my pubic hair being fondled until my need was almost tangible.

Then that blissful feeling of finally getting it, feeling Paul enter me in one decisive move, his hands on my hips, his mind on my mind, a mixture of loving and being loved. No taking tonight for Lukas, he managed to keep still and let me bring him to a shuddering climax, whilst Paul pleasured first me, and then himself in his usual, calm way.

And then we laid on both sides of Lukas again, still stroking him, still kissing him every so often, until we could feel his need quiet down and finally rest.

This was such a special moment, we didn't speak, we just listened to the birds whistling in the birches, and to the noise of the children still playing on the lawn. Lukas wanted to embrace us both, and with the two of us in his arms he said: 'Now I'm really, really happy.'


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Of course we had to get up again, and set our clothes to right, so we did, but not eagerly.

Restored, Lukas walked back to the greenhouse on his own two legs, where we got more coffee and some sandwiches.

Then the three of us drew a rough sketch of the new greenhouse, after which I carefully measured every nook and cranny of the plot, and the general dimensions of the new greenhouse. I would draw a more detailed sketch with all the exact measurements at home.

When I was done, I found Tristan watching me, and I invited him over. He asked: 'What happened there, can you tell me? It was positively frightening.'

I told him: 'That girl had been sexually abused, and Lukas had no concept of sexual abuse at all, so experiencing it through her memories had a huge impact on him. His species thrives on love, so you can imagine what living through a perversion of it did to him, it nearly destroyed him.

He was totally lost in her memories but I managed to find him and get him out of her memories, and then he insisted on treating them right away.'

When I was done talking he observed: 'He really shouldn't be doing this until he has a lot more experience working magic. But I'm sure he won't stop, he is called to do it by his own empathy.

So here's my tip: next time Lukas does this, use an anchor.

You three are so close that the link between you is tangible to my sight. Next time, one of you feeds Lukas, and the other anchors all of you to the now. That will be much safer.'

And now I couldn't control myself any longer and I hugged him tightly, then said: 'Thank you so much for the advice, we should have thought of that ourselves, we'll certainly do it.'

He said: 'Thank you for the hug, it makes me feel welcome. And also for the advice, for I have a date with Ilsa. I'll try to follow your other piece of advice, are you sure she'll want me to make love to her? And not to fall in love with her?'

I nodded, convinced this was the right approach for Ilsa. He continued: 'Can I visit sometimes, or invite you over to my place? Getting to know you three has made me realise how lonely my life really is.'

'Of course you can, we love going out and both Lukas and Paul can cook like chefs, they love to entertain guests. You will come to our wedding, won't you? We're having it here, in the garden, and I guess quite soon.'

We left early that evening, Lukas and Paul needed their rest and frankly, I felt totally drained as well.

I didn't feel up to a family dinner at the Nomes', and I guessed Tristan didn't either, for when we announced we would be leaving before dinner, he offered to drive us home in his carriage.

On our way back we were all silent, the day's events had had a deep impact on all of us. I felt kind of sorry that Tristan had to go home alone after a day like this, but I supposed one couldn't go from total loneliness to total sociability in just one day, he'd have to practice enjoying people's company. The carriage pulled up at our front door, and we all got out.

Both Lukas and I gave Tristan a familiar hug, Paul shook hands with him, still a bit suspicious of the latter's upper-class attitude, I guess. Our new acquaintance got back in his carriage and drove off, and we went into our own familiar house. We went straight to bed, but we were not done for the day yet.

Before Paul or I could ask Lukas whether the burden of healing so many traumatised children was too much for him, he said: 'I thought I was in control of my gift, but today it betrayed me, if you hadn't been there with me I could have died or lost my mind. To be honest, I don't know if I dare use it again, I wish desperately I could undo knowing how making love can be perverted, and I'm afraid to get stuck in some kid's horrifying memories again.'

This is what we both been afraid of, Lukas was way too sensitive to go through that process twice a day, day in day out.

Now Paul observed: 'We can make it safer for you Lukas, but we cannot spare you the emotional burden of reliving all those memories with the children.

But you need not treat them all, if it is too hard on you. The news of the factory is all over the city by now, so parents will most likely come looking for their missing children, especially if they know they were talented.

And once they are restored to their parents there are other ways of dealing with trauma, they take longer to have effect and they're not as complete as your treatment, but they would not remember the horrors and make new, better memories.'

With hope, almost hunger, Lukas asked him: 'You can make it safer?' Paul bowed his head and said: 'I'm sorry I didn't realise the danger before, but it is the same danger scrying poses, so the solution is ridiculously easy: add an anchor.'

This was exactly what Tristan had suggested, and hearing it, Lukas looked struck and said: 'Bescu! I should have thought of that myself, I was raised in a world filled with magic, even if I didn't have any myself.'

After a short pause, he continued: 'With the danger of getting stuck removed I dare try again, only not twice a day. Will you both help me tomorrow? See if I can handle one?'

We promised, and with our minds relieved we were happy to go to sleep. When I got to that nice fuzzy stage, where you can still feel your beloveds arms around you, smell his scent, be vaguely aware that sleep is upon you but still able to enjoy the feeling, that is when I heard an unknown ringing voice say:

'There's someone in your cellar, maybe you should check it out.'

I sat up straight in bed, wide awake, and so did the guys. 'What was that?' I asked aloud, but the guys were already up and on their way out of the bedroom, very alert.

Lukas was frightened out of his wits, for he knew as well as I did what was kept in the cabinet in that cellar, but still he guarded Paul's back.

Remembering Paul's assurance that nothing could break in to his house without him knowing, I stayed behind to find out who had spoken. 'Who is there?' I queried suspiciously, and in answer I got bubbling laughter.

Trying to determine where the sound had come from I turned from left to right, but doing this I realised it had only sounded in my head. 'Good, good,' the voice now said, 'at least someone's thinking.'

The voice sounded special, as if the words were spoken outside and not in an enclosed space with a lot of fabric muffling the sound. Also, it was very clear, ringing was still the best description, and to be honest, rather supercilious, as if talking to a child.

'But my dear girl, to us you are still very much a child.' Whatever was talking, it was also picking up my thoughts, which frightened me a little, but irritated me a lot!

'All right, reveal yourself, you've frightened Lukas very much, it's not funny,' I said.

'You humans have such tempers, we were only trying to help. After all, you did free us from that filthy place, that bottom dweller playing with stolen powers, yuck. We very much prefer watching you three at it.'

Then it struck me: the statues. Elvish in make, besouled by their maker.

'It's gone now, your friends were too slow, and maybe better they were. It will be back though, or should we say, he? What is the use of bespelling your house to keep out intruders and hostile magic, if you keep a portal in your cellar?'

Put that way it did sound rather foolish. What I did know was that I felt very uncomfortable and, well, caught.

'Oh, you're such a cute threesome, why feel shame? Your horny lover is right you know, there's plenty of love to go around. Look, he's coming back, still frightened, and rightly so.'

And indeed, Lukas entered the bedroom, followed by Paul. Whilst Lukas went straight for my lap, curling up in my arms, hiding his face in my bosom, giving in to extreme fear, Paul walked to the statues with determination and spoke at them accusingly: 'There was nothing there, was this some kind of sick joke? Look at him.'

He pointed at our dear friend, who was beside himself, shuddering in my arms.

'Would you rather have slept and woken up with him gone?' said the voice in my head, and clearly Paul heard it too.

Lukas was no longer aware of anything, I truly believed he was in shock with fear.

'He left when you went downstairs, but he will be back. Your friend is worth his weight in gold with a gift like that.'

Those statues sure were outspoken, and to be honest their comments didn't help to quiet my concerns, and neither did Lukas' attitude, for in my mind cowering in fear never saved anyone.

Part of my mind protested that he had faced plenty today, including checking the cellar with Paul. Even the bravest soul had a breaking point, and this was Lukas'.

'Lukas, don't shut us out,' I pleaded, 'whatever or whoever that was, it's gone now.'

I felt him right himself a little, his head came up to look at me, and he said: 'You're right, this isn't helping anyone except maybe my father.'

Swallowing audibly he said: 'I panicked, but I'll be in control again soon.' But he did not get up from my arms, and I didn't want him to, I wanted to keep him close to me.

Paul spoke to the statues again: 'Thank you for the warning, we will certainly heed it.' Then to us: 'What shall we do? You need to be away from that portal, Lukas, but the question is, do we take you out of the house, or it?

I was planning to let George take it anyway to study it, this only speeds up the whole decision-making, but we do have tonight to think of.'

Lukas thought for a few minutes, then said: 'If it's my father coming for me, I'd prefer not to expose so many people to his wrath, or his seductive powers for that matter.

Frankly I'd rather it's just you, you're both strong and you know what he is. So I'll just run over to the Nomes', I'm pretty sure Ilsa will welcome me to her bed.

And then we'll sort out the portal tomorrow.'

What could I say? That was Lukas, I was pleased he was my very own goat-man once again, and I supposed Ilsa would really want to give him some love.

Paul and me exchanged a fond smile, and then we watched Lukas dress. Fortunately it was still early, so I was sure he'd find the family still awake.

I kissed him and said: 'Be careful.' He nodded and kissed Paul, saying 'If he does show up, please don't provoke him. He can squash you like a bug. He likes pretty girls, a lot, let Melissa distract him.'

And with that encouraging message he left.

And then Paul and me were left. I didn't think I would be able to sleep with the threat of someone breaking in our home hanging over my head, but I was really exhausted by now.

I asked Paul why I was so tired, and he replied: 'What you have been doing today, taking power from a ley-line and feeding it to Lukas, is much more profound than seeing into metal or shaping a fireball.

Remember how that tired you at first? All that power is passing through you, and you have to tame it before Lukas can handle it. Why don't you go to sleep, I'll stay awake a little longer, and if nothing turns up I'll sleep too.

I guess our guests will wake us if something intrudes again.'

As I just couldn't stay awake anymore I snuggled against him and within minutes I was fast asleep. Though I didn't wake until the next morning I had a restless night, dreaming of a beautiful sunny coastline, with white rocks rising out of a deep blue sea.

I was sitting on a beautiful terrace overlooking the water, glass of sparkling red wine in my hand, celebrating with lovable horned friends, waited on hand and foot by an adoring host, tall and athletic, and with the face of an angel.

Of course I felt insulted, I thought I rated a more sophisticated priming tactic than that. I might be young, but I was not thát easily seduced.

What it did, was lessen my fear at the possibility of having to confront a god to protect my loved one.

But maybe that was his real plot, subtly encouraging us to underestimate him, then strike when we had convinced ourselves the danger had passed.

I was still contemplating this when Paul started to stroke me softly, distracting me instantly from my thoughts. I always wondered at the versatility of his hands, they could be as tender as this, making me feel every little hair on my body with their incredibly soft touch, but they could also hammer a shape in hard metal, or produce a tiny ornament, or pick up castings to hot for me to handle.

Turning towards him, I wanted him to stroke my breasts and to let his nimble hand glide between my legs.

But he took his time, feeling every curve and every muscle, even my arms and legs, as well as my feet, then upwards again towards my luscious bottom, finally stroking my inner legs, sending a thrill through me.

Then at last I got a kiss, but only a tiny one, and he was back to stroking again.

'Do you want more?' he asked huskily.

Of course I wanted more, he had my nerves screaming for more, so I said: 'Yes, please!' in his ear. 'Sit on my face then,' he said, 'and I'll give you everything you want.'

That sounded quite exciting, so I got up and did as he asked. The next moment he took hold of my labia and spread them to access what was lying underneath, and my passion sprang to overdrive by the expectation of what was to come.

And sure enough, when I felt his tongue touching me it was like a jolt of electricity, and a moan escaped me. He really dug in now, almost greedy, licking and sucking, with me still sitting up, nearly dizzy with the sensations assaulting me.

He couldn't seem to stop, even when I climaxed he went on, adding a few fingers, causing me to move along to feel them even better. A second high followed rather quickly, and now I hoped Paul was ready for some action of his own.

I let myself fall backwards on the bed, and pulled him over me, guiding his erect penis towards my mouth. Of course he enjoyed that very much, I could clearly see that, but I guess it still excited him a bit too much, for after a few moments he carefully removed himself from my mouth, and thrust himself in me with a grin on his face.

He reached out for my breasts, arched his back so he could put one of my nipples in his mouth whilst being joined, which gave me a blissful jolt with every thrust he made.

I remembered feeling both sides of lovemaking one time with Lukas, and I wanted to let Paul feel that too, so I touched his mind to invite contact, and immediately felt a feeling of welcome wash over me, love, extreme heat, and a drive to thrust myself into the enveloping warmth, mingled with the exquisite jolts moving my own body.

He was clearly pleasantly surprised at experiencing my feelings as well as his own, and soon our senses mingled to one rising tide of pleasure and lust, almost impossible to separate, still rising until it broke free and we reached one shuddering climax.

Breathing hard, Paul let himself crash on me, trying out what he must have seen Lukas do. I welcomed him with open arms, always very happy to feel the weight and the heaving chest on me, and smell the intense lovemaking on my partner.

We had a few minutes still joined, and then he rolled to the side, and we kissed and embraced. 'Good morning love,' he said, 'did you have an interesting dream as well?'

I told him about it, letting my opinion on its simplicity shine through. He laughed and said: 'I had one like it, I was here, working and eating and sleeping on my own again, feeling devastated and lonely because you had left me for Lukas. I felt as insulted as you at being thought so easy to manipulate.'

'Are you afraid of the idea of his father coming to get him?' I asked.

Paul replied: 'Frankly I find it very difficult to imagine a real god, would he really be all-powerful? Lukas is so very human. Maybe they call a war-leader a god, or a great magician. Which would still make him rather dangerous, if he was really in our basement, we'd better watch out, but I find it hard to be afraid of someone I've never met.'

Since I felt more or less the same, I decided not to worry yet, it would not have any use anyway.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Before we could bring the mirror to George, he drove by to pick it up, bringing another velvet cloth to wrap it up in, and a bright-eyed and happy Lukas.

He'd clearly had a good night with Ilsa, processing those horrible memories further.

The guys spent the morning working on their commissions, Paul obeying Lukas' rules about the hammering and lifting, and I sat at my desk and carefully drew a very detailed plan for the greenhouse, with all the relevant measurements, and included all the cross sections and a complete floor-plan separately.

That afternoon we went to the Nomes', where we spent the afternoon closeted with George and Tristan, studying the mirror, the three mages binding and sealing the portal in three traditions. Lukas and I just watched.

After that we healed another child, carefully anchored to Paul, and Lukas got his confidence back quickly. We made an appointment with Frances and George to set a date for our marriage, and Lukas taught all the children who wanted to learn to ride a bicycle.

There were only ten children left by this time, even Felicity had been taken home by her parents, a loving couple travelling by coach for the first time in their lives.

Tristan had set his influence to work to find Laura a place, and Lucy had found some peace in the Nomes' stables, among the horses, the ponies and the other occupants of a stables, such as cats and dogs and pigeons.

Bertha seemed to like her, a logical consequence of their mutual love of horses probably, and going on exciting rides with the tiny carriage gave the traumatized girl some happy memories within just a day.

Discussing his future with Jonathan, he told us he'd like to stay with his little group until they all had their memories back and a place to go, then visit his parents, who had written and wanted him to come home, offering to fetch him as soon as he was free to go.

But Jonathan wanted to take the opportunity Paul had offered him, of moving in with us and learning magic from a master, returning to the city after his intended visit with his parents. As long as he was staying with the Nomes', he was of course getting his first magic-lessons from Paul, and as much support and love as he needed from me.

The following week went by much the same, we worked on commissions and the greenhouse plans in the mornings, healed a child in the afternoons.

I went out once for an inspection of building materials for Fritz, the architect, and uncovered a few faulty beams.

I still had weird dreams at night, which bothered me quite a bit for I had hoped the influence of Lukas' dad on my mind would stop with the portal removed from the house and bound by strong magical seals. The dreams stayed unsophisticated, but they did progress to an unnerving level of intimacy, from holding hands with the beautiful man whilst exploring his beautiful villa on the second night, to exploring his territory from his arms, seemingly flying over the area surrounding his abode, held safe and sound whilst the ground flashed by beneath us.

This was the third night, and I remembered Hermes was the messenger of the gods, his speed legendary. I found it hard to talk about these dreams with the men, for I didn't want to scare Lukas with them, and the thought of discussing them with Paul was just too embarrassing, I didn't want him to think I'd fantasized them, so I kept them to myself.

Each night they became more intimate, until I was having exquisite sex with a strange, beautiful man at night, a man who promised me I would become a goddess for real once he had managed to gain entrance to our world to take me with him.

Of course I knew they were just imaginations, sent to me to undermine my will and break my resistance before I could even think of using it against him. I decided to think of Hermes as being as unsubtle as his sendings, and to prepare my defence accordingly, undergoing the dreams without a smatter of resistance, seeming to even welcome them, showing signs of admiration and enjoyment.

That was really hard to do, for I felt like an adulteress even though they were just dreams and fantasies, but he was clearly quite powerful to be able to send through three different kinds of spells and the shields on Paul's house, and I wanted him appeased and underestimating me if he ever came through the portal.

It did affect my love-life somewhat, it was hard to enjoy being loved with one of those dreams still clinging to me like a slightly smudgy memory.

The boys seemed distracted too, both working on their new commissions every spare minute, thrown together by my distance, it seemed. My favourite contractor had indeed stepped by, and after seeing the shop and the handiwork within it had immediately put in an order for several boilers with very specific ornamentation, one of which I secretly suspected was to be his own.

He also wanted a bicycle, and since Lukas wanted to make one as well, Paul and Lukas spent some time on making moulds for several parts, and ordering materials for others.

Besides all this, I had a hunch that Paul was working on a gun, having been out alone a few hours and sitting at his desk drawing for an hour afterwards, and not wanting to show me what he had drawn. I didn't like the idea of having such a deadly weapon in the house, but at the same time I realised that it might be our only defence if it came to a confrontation with Lukas' dad.

The week seemed to creep by, my feeling of loneliness grew and my upcoming marriage seemed more like a sham than an event I was looking forward to.

Tristan had come to dinner and we had spent a lively night, with Lukas cooking and Paul and Tristan playing chess on the kitchen table.

The two mages had become quite friendly over the week, having met several times over business, concerning the future of the factory and the planned school. And they had also met at the Nomes', for Tristan was a regular there now, dating Ilsa and helping out with the healings and placing the children who had nowhere to go.

This was probably what endeared him most to Paul, for his concern for the welfare of those rejects was real, and he acted upon his concern and used his leverage within the council to improve their lot, and that of other rejected children in the city.

Having made his next move on the board, Tristan now said: 'I want to thank you for your advice concerning Ilsa, Melissa.

Being loving but not in love did the trick totally, we have a great time, we even make love, but we have not discussed a future together or even the subject of love even once.

Should I start it, I think I would lose her instantly, so I guess I'll just play along and appreciate what she's willing to give me.'

I could tell he was a bit bothered by this, but frankly I didn't feel up to giving any more advice with my own feelings so disturbed. By now I desperately wanted advice myself on how to cope with those erotic dreams, I didn't dare tell anyone for fear of giving away my own act to my one-god audience, but I was feeling the distance with my loved ones more and more.

Fortunately Paul stepped in, and said: 'Give her more time, Tristan, it has only been a week and she has suffered a great deal for love. She'll get over it, I know her really well and she truly likes you. Ask her about her past, it might do her good to tell you.'

The visit was a nice change from our evenings together, when I felt the strain of my forced 'unfaithfulness' worst.

We used to have such comfortable, quiet evenings, and now Lukas often fled to a dance, and Paul worked on his gun, openly, sitting in the living-room with a leather apron and a file. He didn't seem put out or angry, just his usual way of keeping silent until the one with the problem was ready to talk about it, whilst I would have loved it if he had started a conversation, risking exposure of my plot to feel happy again.

At night he held me close lovingly, as if supporting me in my struggle but not able or not willing to ask for an explanation.

When Friday arrived I was relieved, for I hoped to be able to confide in my dad about the possible confrontation ahead, and the strain the continuing act was putting on me.

With Paul and me cycling again and Lukas walking along in quite a fast pace, but not yet running, we arrived at my parents' in good time. I knocked on the door and my mum opened it, welcoming us inside.

When we were in the living room I told them: 'Mum, dad, this is Lukas Hermeides, a very good friend of Paul and me, whom we would like to take along with us tonight.'

They shook hands, and my dad looked at him appraisingly, then said: 'Welcome to my house, Lukas, you have a great talent indeed, which I'll gladly help you hide from the witch-hunters. Is your father really the illustrious messenger of the gods?'

I was getting used to my father surprising me, good practice for tonight probably. Lukas bowed and replied: 'He is, Mr Thorn.'

My father said: 'Please call me Jakob, both of you, we're an informal lot in our circle.' He put on a coat and kissed my mother goodbye.

We left immediately, walking criss-cross through the streets and alleys, until we came upon a once-beautiful but now derelict building covered in ivy, surrounded by a crumbling brick wall and with a weed-choked garden between them.

We entered the site through a sagging metal gate at the back, and followed a little path through the weeds until we saw the back door, once painted blue but bladdering to the green underneath now.

My dad knocked three times, and two more times, and the door opened, letting us in. As soon as the door was closed behind us my dad told us: 'We meet in a different place each time, we have countless possible locations like this, and ways to communicate with one another spiritually.

We never leave a trace, either physically or spiritually, and we always post several guards as well as wards. We have to, for we have been persecuted for ages.

I had hoped to spare you this, Melissa, which I why I arranged patronage for you to study, but I guess I underestimated your potential.'

Here, Paul stepped in and said: 'Mr Thorn, I mean, Jakob, I have been practising magic for years and so have my parents, but we have never been harassed by anyone. How come?'

Starting to take off his coat, my dad replied: 'Partly it is because of the influence of their name, and the seclusion of their manor, but guardian magic is not as high on the agenda of the witch hunters either.

As long as people pretend to be Christians they tend to be left alone unless they really stir the populace with open magic-use. It's the faith that makes the difference.

Also, your parents can fry any witch hunter's hide, that sort tends to persecute those who have only a little magic, earth mages, midwives, healers in the poor quarters.'

Paul nodded, and we were introduced to about ten other people, men and women of all ages. Six of the formed a circle, the rest were clearly guards.

Incense and herbs were quickly distributed and the circle was closed by everyone taking the neighbour's hands. We were spread among them.

My father spoke: 'We are accompanied today by my daughter and two of her talented friends, all three of whom use their innate magic for good and in concurrence with nature.

I ask of you to help these friends to mask their talent from sight, as to make them a bit safer in this city, where they move openly among the people to perform their daily duties.

Please let us begin the rite.'

And to us he said: 'We will chant and make a thick smoke of herbs, please keep your position until the circle is dismissed. You will not have to say anything or do anything, just allow us to modify your personal shields so they will cause sight to pass right around you.'

We nodded, and stood hand in hand with the other members of the circle.

Now a thick smoke smelling of pungent herbs slowly filled the room, and the assembly started to chant. The chant was not in a language I recognised, and it was kind of soothing, making me bit sleepy.

Suddenly it rose in volume and intensity, and power started to gather around us, glowing blue.

My hair stood on end, all of it, and it was almost as if I felt the power crackle, like a bright fire.

The chant changed once again, and the blue of the power surrounded the three of us, and shrank until it covered our bodies like a shield, only closer fitting.

The chant slowed down and got lower and lower in tone, then it died away.

Then it was silent.

Looking at Paul I checked him with sight and he did indeed look like normal person now, no inner glow whatsoever.

No-one here had that glow, of course they all had this special shield. The other witches now broke the circle and started chatting with each other, and my dad gathered us around himself and said: 'This will only guard against prying eyes, if you need arcane protection you will still have to shield yourself as usual. If you are using magic your power will shine through. It is entirely passive, it needs no upkeep, if it starts to unravel you'll see quickly enough, just come to me to have it renewed. Any other questions?'

Paul now told my dad: 'Yes Jakob, I have several, but they just need answers, no magic, so we might retreat to another place to discuss them, where there is less danger of being found out.'

This caused my father to smile, and he said: 'Good, you understand the danger of gathering with so many.

My friends will continue their work of magic without me, and we will go to my home to talk a little more.'

We shook lots of hands again and thanked everyone, and then we were on our way back, crossing alleys again and traversing streets in what seemed to be quite a detour. Still, we didn't want to lead anyone to my parents' home, so we walked on and stayed quiet.

My dad used a key and let us in, we removed our coats and sat down with a cup of coffee and some of my mom's cookies.

'All right, let's have it,' my dad said, and Paul started with his first question: 'Can you find someone's relatives with magic? There is a girl who was taken from her parents years ago and we want to find them, but they lived in the slum and their names are Smith, so not much chance.'

My dad nodded, and said: 'We have a member who can do that, he needs some hair or blood and then he can feel if there is a relative nearby within a few blocks.

But it is dangerous to do openly, for working magic makes the caster vulnerable and visible, so if you want us to do something of the sort, you'll have to provide protection.'

'Like a carriage to work from?' Paul asked. 'If you can get hold of a carriage, that would be perfect,' dad said, I'll let you know when he has his next days off.'

'Thank you,' Paul said, 'and I wondered if it is possible to send dreams beyond a portal sealed with magic.

Lukas here came to us through a portal, and his father seems to have followed him at least once. Now he's back to where he came from and we've carefully sealed the portal and moved it, but we keep having weird dreams, dreams that seem to be coming from him.'

I blurted out: 'So you have been dreaming too!'

Paul now looked at my father and asked: 'Do you have shields on this place?' My dad looked proud and said: 'Enough to stop a comet. And what is more important in this case: not just magical ones, but mundane ones as well, herbal and metal ones, that not even the strongest mage can pass by.'

Relieved, Paul came towards me and took the chair next to mine, taking my hands in his larger ones, and he kissed me tenderly.

'I'm sorry love, I knew you were suffering from them, but I didn't dare talk to you under shields that were unable to stop them night after night. I don't know what yours were like, but I can guess at them, and it seemed to us you were trying to play along.

I know it was hard on you, I tried to give you as much encouragement as I could without being too obvious, but I didn't want to spoil your game. In fact, we both tried to play along, but you've been so unhappy the last few days I just can't stand it anymore. Come..'

He held out his arms and I climbed on his lap in relief, swallowing tears, letting him hold me tightly until I was back in control and could speak again.

Lukas looked at me intently as well, and he said: 'I really admire you, Melissa, sticking to it when it was clearly an enormous burden. I couldn't handle it, I had to confide in Paul immediately.'

Now I could speak again, and I told them: 'I dreamt of an increasing intimacy between a man who I guessed was your father, and me.

I felt he was trying to seduce me, prime me to betray you both, and I wanted him to believe his ploy worked, but it felt like adultery, allowing his attentions, and it started to hurt me more and more.

I'm glad it's out in the open now.'

'The beautiful thing is, dearest, it is probably not in the open, for your father's shields are most likely alien to him and therefore we can at least try to keep up the façade until he gives up,' Paul said.

Lukas looked at both of us uncomprehendingly and observed: 'I know what you're trying to accomplish, but what's adultery?'

Of course that left us helpless with laughter, and with the tense atmosphere broken, we could explain in two sentences, and listen to what my dad had to say.

'Being a dad myself it seems rather harsh to keep him away from his son,' he observed.

Now Lukas spoke up: 'That is certainly true, but I suspect my father of having put me through abduction and abuse to free my blocked gift.

It worked, and I fear he's coming to get me now, to use me as his pawn. He's a god, so he could do with me what he liked.'

My dad nodded, and said: 'I see, so you think this was all a set-up, and you don't want to see him again.'

'Not as his plaything,' Lukas replied, 'I want to lead my own life, make my own choices.'

My father spent some time in deep thought, in which Lukas claimed some of my attention as well.

I had missed him too, I hadn't felt like an adulteress towards him as much, but it was his father I was leading on, so that hadn't been easy either.

'I cannot believe anyone projecting thought to an unknown house through a magical shield,' sounded my father's voice, ' I'd say only a god could do that, but that would not be al all funny in this matter. And I don't even believe a god could do it, not outside his own territory.

Are you sure he didn't leave some part of himself in your house, a sort of beacon to guide his thoughts inside your house?'

I could see in both Lukas' and Paul's faces that our house was soon going to be turned upside down, especially the cellar.

We agreed to stick to our roles for two more days, expecting him to give up or change tactics when the dreams had reached their climax. Mine sure was close to it.

Then the guys told me their dreams.

'I've been dreaming of sinking further and further into depression, left all alone in this house reminding me of the two of you, happy together, with me burying myself in my work again, but to no avail.

I think he wants me to run you off my property, or even attack you, Lukas, driving you out in the street on your own, unable to go anywhere but back to him. Or maybe he wants me too depressed to act when the time comes,' was Paul's story.

And Lukas said: 'Mine started with being thrown out and run off by Paul in a rage, then returning home to become a celebrated healer with women falling at my feet in some very graphic scenes. Sometimes you are among them, Melissa, sometimes he forgets to add you, I think he means to keep you for himself.

And I have my horns again.'

So to keep up the show we decided we'd stay apart a little until the dreams stopped.

After this, we let my dad know the time and place of the wedding, and I gave the direction to the church and the manor house.

I also got my sisters' addresses to send them an invitation. Then we thanked him once again, said goodbye to him and my mum, and left.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Back home there was still time for a big search, but nothing turned up.

We went to bed a bit subdued, despite the interesting evening we'd had with my dad's circle, apprehensive about what was going to happen that night, at least in my case.

I was really glad to have my dear friends close, feeling loved once again, no longer keeping myself apart with a guilty conscience.

I had forgotten all about those elven statues until I heard the voice in my head again: 'I say, what happened to you guys, where did all your magic go?'

'You don't see it anymore?' Paul asked them. 'Not a thing, you look totally mundane to sight.'

'And now?' I could see Paul gathering power. 'Now it's back, say, that's a neat trick! And it is a solid shield, apparently you still hear us when we project at you, but we cannot catch thoughts anymore, of either of you.'

So we knew it actually worked above what my dad had promised, though using magic would cancel the effect, our thoughts were as safe as our true nature as long as we didn't work magic.

Maybe Lukas' father, if he ever broke through the seal, would think Lukas was still without talent, and leave him be. With the comforting thought I fell asleep.

The next morning I realised I hadn't dreamed at all that night, and certainly not an erotically tinged dream.

Suddenly I felt really happy, hoping Hermes had given up on his son, unable to break the seal. And the realisation that I was going to be married to the man of my dreams tomorrow finally got the thrill it deserved.

I was going to marry Paul! Checking the space beside me I saw him still asleep, looking like a young adult again instead of thirtyish.

A face appeared behind him, it was Lukas, kneeling beside the bed laughing broadly, whispering: 'Isn't he cute asleep? I want to cuddle him but then he'll turn into an adult instantly, better adore him from a safe distance. Any titillating dreams last night?'

I shook my head, and replied: 'No, I didn't dream at all. Does that mean he's given up?'

'We can certainly hope so, he wouldn't stop sending unless he really got fed up with it, my dad's like a badger, never lets go.

I'm off for a run and a magic lesson from George. I'll be back for some forging and hammering. And this afternoon: the last healing, and I don't expect trouble, if that little boy has as few memories left as Felicity had. See you!'

That sounded a bit blunt coming from Lukas, but he was clearly in high spirits, and he had restored the memory of nine kids so far, and treated their trauma at great personal cost, so I guessed he was entitled to some impudence.

Starting to get used to working in my own time, I decided I could stay in bed with my soon-to-be-husband a little longer, risking waking him up by moving against his sleeping shape, enjoying the feel of his warm body immensely.

He grunted approvingly, turned around to face me and kissed me lustily, wrapping me in his strong arms, but his face never changed, apparently he was still very much asleep.

And indeed, after a minute or so he went back to sleeping quietly, arms still wrapped around me, boyish face buried in my neck.

I was planning to go to sleep again as well, but instead I just lay there, savouring the moment, watching Paul sleep.

One effect of not having had a dream with unwelcome intimacies was a distinct feeling of heat, which was very welcome to me, I usually felt a bit horny in the mornings, but the dreams had spoiled that.

I was a bit sorry that Lukas had left so quickly, we often sneaked away to my apartment for some rough love-play, and I certainly felt like some of that now. I remembered the way he used to wake me with a stimulating surprise when we were still living in my apartment, and the remembrance of one time when I dreamt of riding a wave of pleasure did nothing to dispel my excitement.

It was weird, thinking of loving another man when looking forward to my wedding, but this did not feel adulterous, Lukas had been part of our relationship from the first, and I hoped Paul wasn't jealous of him any longer.

Of course he might enjoy a waking-up surprise as well, though it might be harder to do since he wasn't as easily stimulated as Lukas.

Or was he? He was holding me quite tightly, and removing myself from his arms might wake him, so I decided to see if I could excite him a little without waking him, stroking the inside of his thighs very gently, tickling the soft skin of his testicles, looking at his face for the reaction.

And indeed, I felt his penis get the idea and rise, but his face stayed boyish and very much asleep. It was all I could do not to kiss him on his sweet mouth, he was so adorable in his innocence, but that would spoil the joke, so I controlled myself.

Now I slowly and very carefully moved a tiny bit, to get him from his side to his back, glad he could lie on it again, the bullet-wound healed by now. There was no reaction except a tiny sleepy smile, heartbreakingly sweet, testing my willpower not to put a kiss on it.

But I managed to control myself, imagining the look on his face when he awoke slowly from a passionate dream.

Would he look those extra years instantly, or might I see him awake and his real age for a second, free of his usual seriousness?

Still held tightly in his arms, I kept my upper body where it was, half on his, half beside him, my one hand still caressing his thighs lightly to keep his heat up, and I moved my one leg over him to straddle him, then very slowly moved my entire body over him, keeping the weight on arms and knees not to wake him.

It worked, and now I sat down on his erect penis, feeling it slide into me with intense pleasure. Moving slowly, I saw what I had hoped to on his face, still asleep it was stirring, bliss playing his features, that small smile broadening, the arms tightening their hold on me.

By now I couldn't tell anymore whether he was asleep or awake, probably somewhere in between, he still looked very young, and I could no longer control myself, my heat was rising quickly and he looked so incredibly appealing, I just had to kiss his beloved mouth, so I did and was received with intense passion.

His body started to move under me, following my rhythm, and his husky voice said: 'I suppose it was my turn to have a stirring dream?'

Then he kissed me again, and for another half hour we were pleasantly engaged, catching up on all the intimacy we had missed.

Paul hadn't had any dreams either last night, and he was also convinced that Lukas' dad had given up, looking forward to resuming our normal life of working, teaching, and having some fun.

It seemed like a normal day, though I did send messages to my sisters, inviting them to our wedding in the Nomes' garden.

We were going to get wed for the authorities as quickly as possible by the parish priest, with just my father and Lukas present, then have another ceremony in the Nomes' garden, the real one, conducted by George and followed by a little party with our best friends.

The rest of the day passed quickly because we were kept very busy.

Paul and Lukas worked on their commissions, and I had an inspection for Mr Millner, two hours of work for a nice fee.

I used the bicycle to take me there, still wondering why so few people used one. I found no structural faults, fortunately, and signed off on the building with a good feeling. When I came back, Paul had finished his gun, he even had bought some cartridges already to try it out this afternoon, in the wasteland, which we were planning to visit on our way over to the Nomes', to check for ways to remove the taint of the stolen magic.

Tristan had asked us to do this, to compare notes with his own findings. After lunch we took the bicycles to the wasteland, and went in. It was totally deserted now, except for some birds, gulls and pigeons, looking for the food scraps the rejected children no longer used.

We climbed over the thrash, moving steadily towards the sickening spot where the node with stolen power was, and it was clear all three of us felt its influence, feeling more nauseous with every step we set towards it.

'How close can we get to it?' I asked.

Paul answered: 'It cannot hurt us, except for making us sick and depressed, the memories attached to it could make Lukas very depressed and physically unwell because he is very sensitive to emotions, but they cannot harm his body permanently.

We could even use the power, it's just power, but then we would feel the emotions as badly and get sick with the harm associated with it.

If you just shield it out a tiny bit, we can walk over that spot with no danger to ourselves.'

'But what about the people who died from it?' Lukas asked.

'It was not the power that killed them, but the influence its taint had on the water they drank. You know water in a city is usually dirty and not very good to drink.'

We both nodded, and Lukas said: 'Boiling it makes it better, doesn't it?'

Paul replied: 'It does, but the water in this river is not just polluted with human and animal excrement and offal from the slaughterhouses, it also contains chemicals from the tanners and from the other factories along it, and somehow boiling doesn't help to remove those.

In any case, it seems the corrupted power makes the unhealthy things in the water stronger, making the water deadly to children and weakened adults, pregnant women, people with consumption, the elderly.'

That explained the deaths, and now I put up shields to keep the sickness out and walked straight into the affected area.

On the edge of the phosphorescent spot I used my sight to look deeper into the earth, planning to use my own power first, then use either the ley-line or Paul's if that wasn't enough. I needed to use my own power to build it up, like muscles, and memory. It had to be used to improve, even if it could be very tiring to do so.

On the surface, nothing was visible except to sight, the phosphorescence was already lessening in strength, probably because the power fuelling it was leaking away but no longer being replaced. I was curious why the site glowed greenish instead of the sickly red of the stolen power, so I traced the phosphorescence down below the surface, and saw a zone in which the greenish tinge changed to the expected red.

Zooming in on that zone, I thought I saw pockets of green, fed by the red power. I observed to Paul and Lukas: 'It seems as if the phosphorescent stuff is feeding off the power, it must be the greenish stuff that is poisonous, not the power itself.'

Paul asked: 'Do you think it's alive?' Watching more closely, I could see the stuff multiply where it touched the power, and I replied: 'I think it is, it behaves as if it is a living thing, multiplying and moving up.'

Looking deeper into the ground I saw the 'node', a big black block of basalt stone, pulsating with the power, leaking through natural faults in the stone.

Coming back to the now I said: 'There is a big block of basalt in there, filled to the brim with power, and leaking through the natural cracks in the stone. Would it be harmful if the power was released all at once?'

After a short pause, Paul replied: 'I guess not, some would sink into the ground, but most would flow back to the ley-line, losing its taint in the process of moving through the soil.

Remember, the taint is not physical, it is spiritual, it cannot stand long against water and air and plant-life now the person controlling it is dead.'

'All right then, what if I were to enlarge the natural cracks in the stone until it burst open and all the power was released?

It would be better than leaching its poison bit by bit, strengthening the disease carried by the river, wouldn't it?'

I asked this, guessing I would be able to widen the cracks by now, which I wasn't certain of at all. Aware of this, Paul said: 'I guess you might be able to do that, yes, though stone is quite strong stuff.

Let's tell Tristan, let him decide, probably has an opinion on this as well, and he's the one facing the consequences if more people die.'

And then it was time to try out the gun, which we wisely did behind one of the ruins, where we were not as exposed, either to onlookers or to bullets flying in the wrong direction.

Paul loaded the gun with the cartridge, asked us to step a way to a safe distance, and fired the gun at the wall.

It gave a loud crack, and a big piece of plaster was smashed out of the wall in a cloud of dust, disintegrated before it his the ground.

'Wow,' Lukas exclaimed, 'that is killing!'

And indeed, if the black mage had packed a gun like that, Paul would not have been standing here next to us. Even though I still believed that Lukas' dad was not going to manage cracking the seal on the portal, I still felt a bit of relieve that Paul now had a weapon that someone from a different dimension would not recognise, nor be able to defend against.

Killing a god would be an unimaginable sin, but I'd do it myself if needed to defend my dear friend. 'Can you hit anything?' Lukas asked Paul.

Stacking a few odds and ends, Paul fired two more shots, hitting a pot with one, and missing a piece of timber with the other. Then he handed it to Lukas, clearly eager to try.

The gun seemed overlarge in his smaller hands, but he was a lot stronger than he looked and was very well-muscled from working the metal, so I didn't fear the gun's power would hurt him.

The thing went off with another crack, and Lukas hit the pot, which had been righted before his attempt.

But he also missed the piece of timber, which I supposed was to be expected. Shooting needed practice as much as any other skill.

Lukas now sounded positively bloodthirsty: 'Fortunately my father is a lot bigger than that piece of wood.'

I wisely kept my mouth shut, I couldn't imagine him really shooting his dad to kill, not this feeling man that I loved so much, it was probably the exhilaration at shooting a gun speaking.

Paul offered me the gun, and I really wanted to try, but I was afraid of its strength as well.

But he stood behind me, held his hands over mine the first time, and I aimed and shot.

I missed, but now I knew how much force it would give back, and I had heard the crack in my ear. So I asked to try again, on my own.

I took careful aim and fired, at the piece of timber. And hit it! And now I could understand Lukas' talk, for this gave me such a feeling of power that it scared me.

It was worse than making a fireball or throwing one, and worse than putting that guy out with a slap with raw power behind it. This had no cost, it was just aim and shoot, nothing personal.

I quickly returned the gun, and was glad to leave the wasteland for the beautiful garden of the Nomes family, where we would undoubtedly be received with fabulous coffee and strange and worried looks, we had after all apparently lost our talents overnight.

The afternoon was as uneventful as one might call healing the last child in a long line.

The boy, Max, was like Felicity in that he remembered nothing of his recent past, and quite a bit from before. There was every reason to expect that his parents still lived, and that they would want their boy back.

He was a bit more aware after the treatment, and that was all we had hoped for, only time would tell if more recovery was possible. Jonathan was there with the boy all the time, as he had been with all the others.

And now his self-imposed task was finished, he would stay for our party, then visit his parents and hopefully come back for an education in magic. We stayed with the family for dinner, the three of us, Tristan, who was a regular caller by now, and Jonathan, who seemed as much part of the family as Paul must have been once.

Being much of an age, we were turning into quite a set with Ilsa, Julia and Marcus. By now we had met Jonas as well, a very likeable young artist with a distinct talent for photography, and he fitted into our group just fine.

Lukas, as ever, was getting bored with the quiet conversation, and suggested something a little more lively:

'Seeing as we're all gathered here in such a cosy way, why don't we celebrate our favourite couple's up-and-coming loss of freedom by going out? Let's all go to a dance!'

This suggestion was taken up quite readily by the young crowd, and we decided to all meet at our place and walk from there.

Tristan needed some persuading, and Jonathan too, but with a little fast talk from Lukas they soon agreed to come.

Then there was George, who clearly thought himself too old to join in with the young ones, especially since three of them were his own children. But Lukas knew he'd wanted to come to one of these dances for a long time, and he did such a good job of talking him around that Frances admitted she'd like to come too.

Paul and I looked at each other, it was quite some time ago that we went dancing, and to do so on the eve of our wedding seemed fitting somehow, though we would probably not have much chance of turning into a steady, boring couple with Lukas part of our lives.

Still, we all felt a rising excitement, and we cycled home quickly after dinner to put on some fancy clothes.


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

It was a merry group of people walking towards the dance from our house, we were all in high spirits, and dressed to within an inch of our lives. I was wearing one of my best dresses, keeping the best for tomorrow of course, and I had done my hair in a style that would not come undone when spun around.

Paul's necklace with the little horses rested around my neck, tomorrow I would wear the golden one, to please Paul, for I was attached to the copper one and would gladly have worn it anywhere. Lukas was the heart of our group, keeping everyone entertained, chatting away and teasing Paul and me about our last night as free spirits.

To be honest, I got the feeling he was a little too cheerful, that he was a bit apprehensive about tomorrow, and I decided to take him apart as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

But first, we would dance away some of our nerves, spinning and turning on the lightning fast music.

We found a table large enough for all of us, and ordered drinks. Lukas and Marcus were off dancing straight away, asking girls to dance and spinning away on the beat of the music.

After watching one dance, Julia and Jonas were away, as well as Frances and George. They kept up beyond my expectation, and this convinced Tristan to try, asking Ilsa to dance with him, and showing a lot more elegance and athleticism than anyone of us had expected from such a bulky, reticent person.

That left Paul and Jonathan and me, Paul and me both unwilling to leave Jonathan at a table alone.

Then a blonde lady looked at Paul questioningly, and he passed that look on to me. I nodded, and he took her hand and led her to the dance-floor.

I took Jonathan's hand and said: I'm sure you learned to dance really well, let's see how much you remember.

And with a winsome smile he proved that I was right, he was a really good dancer, even at the speed at which the familiar figures were supposed to be performed here. We spun, and turned, he led me very expertly, and soon we became quite giggly with dizziness.

After two rounds with Jonathan, Paul stole me away from him, and my heart swelled to be in his arms once more.

There was just nothing like this, the feeling of safety I experienced when I was with him, his ravishing looks, his exciting scent, the love and admiration in his eyes. I totally forgot about Jonathan, or about Lukas' forced gaiety, for the next two dances there were just two people on the whole earth, dancing under the stars, turning and turning.

But after four dances in a row I saw stars in front of my eyes as well as in the sky, and I really had to rest for a moment.

As we set down at our table for the night, I took Paul's hand and looked at the dance-floor. Jonathan was there, dancing with a redhead, he looked even better from a distance, suddenly I realized that he looked much older than his years, like Paul.

I hoped the ladies would not ask him for one of those other rounds, but decided not to worry about it. I'd give him a hint if possible, and for the rest I would trust to his excellent sense.

Ilsa and Tristan were still dancing, looking fabulous to be honest.

Tristan's heavy body was clearly much more agile than it looked, and they made a splendid couple.

I looked for Lukas, concerned for him, and saw him dance with a stunningly beautiful black-haired girl. Paul was looking at them too, and said: 'Look at him dance, it's as if he doesn't touch the ground.

I'm looking forward to seeing you two dance again, I'll be able to enjoy it this time, not having to be jealous anymore.

Though I did think he was a bit too boisterous just now, as if something is bothering him. Will you ask him about it, or should I?'

I replied: 'I thought so too. I'll try to talk to him about it, I'm afraid he's unhappy with our marriage after all.'

But now, George came for a rest, and Marcus for a drink. George said: 'Frances is still dancing, with a young man. I wish I could, but I suppose I'll have to settle for a young girl.

Will you do me the honour, Melissa?'

And of course I wanted to dance a round with George, so I left Paul at the table and danced with George, enjoying his skills hugely, he really was a champion and I told him so.

He smiled in fond remembrance and said: 'Frances and I used to go out dancing a lot, usually ending up with different young men afterwards. We had really good times in those days.

Though the dances weren't as fast then, and we had to do our best to escape the chaperones. There aren't any out here.

Do you think we need to warn Jonathan of what is going on in those bushes?'

I replied: 'I think we do, but I also think he can take care of himself quite well, so if someone asks before we get the chance he'll probably understand and decline.'

After that dance, George was claimed by a beautiful young woman, and Tristan asked me for a round.

I saw Paul standing up with Ilsa, making a really gorgeous couple, but then the music started and I had the pleasure of dancing with a truly strong man, catching me easily, encouraging me to trust him and let him spin me around even faster.

When the dance was through I was exhilarated, and when I thanked Tristan he smiled deprecatingly, but was still pleased.

Who could have thought that such a clumsy looking man would be so light on his feet.

He was quickly claimed by one of the blondes who cruised the dance-floor for the better dancers, looking for an exhilarating experience, always eager to try out the new faces who held themselves well on the dance-floor.

Moving towards the table, I watched Paul and Ilsa dance a second round, and though they looked fabulous together, they were clearly brother and sister rather than lovers.

I was happy to see them so close again. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and smelled a familiar scent. It was Lukas. I turned around and opened my arms in an invitation for some intimacy.

He practically fell into them, wrapping his own arms around me really tightly, hiding his face in my bosom once again, always a sign that something was distressing him. I asked: 'Do you want to go somewhere quiet and talk about it?'

He nodded, and looked up, face pointing toward a clump of trees, saying: 'That's too open to do other things, we can sit there.

I knew Paul would expect me to be off with Lukas somewhere, so I went with him without telling anyone. I sat down in the grass with my back against a tree, and Lukas curled up on my lap, head back between my breasts, arms around me.

We sat in silence, I stroked his hair and scratched his horn bases softly, and he leaned into my caresses and relaxed. After some time he asked: 'Will you dance with me later?'

I replied: 'Of course I will dance with you, Lukas, I'd be devastated without you. You know that, don't you? Marrying Paul will not change my feelings for you.'

Looking up at me with his sweet face he said: 'I know my love, I know how much you love me, and I'm not afraid of being shut out, I want to stay with you always.

But I'm so afraid it is not meant to be, I'm still so afraid to be ripped away from you, fighting every step of the way but powerless against the might of my father.

And you'll both fight him, I just know that, and you'll be hurt, or killed. I don't want that, I want you both healthy and happy, without me if need be.

I can't shake the feeling he is coming for me, Melissa, and when he does I will go with him rather than risk him hurting the two people I love most on this world and any other.'

So that was what he had been doing tonight, saying his goodbyes to everyone, partying one last time in a world he had come to love.

I just couldn't speak, there was nothing I could say. There was nothing I wanted more than just live with Lukas and Paul, working for a living and having fun, and to be honest, I was not planning to let someone take Lukas from me just like that.

Not without a battle, even if that meant risking my life and I was sure Paul would see things exactly the same way, having Lukas torn away from us without resistance was unthinkable.

I looked Lukas in the eye, and of course he saw exactly what I was thinking. 'So you're stuck on a fight.

You really are an aggressive species, my kind has always given in to him, we cannot.. I just cannot imagine not obeying him. I don't think I can fight him, Melissa.'

I continued to stroke him, and said: 'You don't have to, dear, we will do it for you, if he indeed turns up. You have done enough for us, healing all those children, teaching us about love. I think your dad could do with one of your lessons in love. Should he indeed make an appearance, you just try your utmost not to obey him, and we'll take care of the rest, not just Paul and me, but all the others whose lives you have touched as well.

I don't think George wants you to be forced to go back, nor Ilsa, nor Frances, Jonathan, Tristan. We will all help you defy him, and we will face the consequences.'

As I was caressing him softly, holding on to him for fear of losing him, I saw a dark shape moving towards us.

The shape was clearly looking for something, most likely the two of us, for I recognised him clearly by his determined way of moving. I didn't call out or wave, I knew he'd find us anyway, and indeed he came straight at us.

'So much grief I feel from you both on a party-night, that cannot be a good thing,' Paul said, as he kneeled in front of us, laying his hands on our cheeks and kissing first Lukas, then me.

'Won't you tell me what the problem is, Lukas, you're so upset you're projecting it. Please tell me.' Lukas now took his hand and pulled Paul into our embrace, blurting out: 'When my father comes to get me, I don't want you to fight him and get killed, I'd rather go with him and know you're safe and happy together.'

'But Lukas, how could we ever be happy without you? Together but knowing we'd let you down?' Paul shook his head and rested his head against Lukas': 'That is not how it works, we cannot blindly obey authority if it goes against everything we stand for.

But seriously Lukas, I don't think your father will break those seals, they were made by two adepts and a master mage, in three different traditions, on top of a near-limitless supply of power.

They cannot even be accessed from the inside, they can only be broken from the outside. I'm afraid for you, how will you ever find the will to be really happy if you're always in fear of your father?'

He offered us both a hand, and said: 'Please come with me, both of you, do trust George and Tristan and me, now hold me,' and he held out his arms to both of us for a tight three-way hug, 'and when you're a bit more composed, we'll find George and Tristan, and then they'll tell you what we have done to keep that portal closed, and what is needed to open it up again. '

I guess we must have looked quite a bit ashamed to have so little faith in Paul, because he laughed warmly and continued: 'And then I want to see the two of you dance together, the two people I love most in this life.

And Lukas, tomorrow, on our own private party, I want to dance with you myself.'

Well, there was no way Lukas could resist so much love. It built him up again, with us standing together until both him and me could face a crowd again, and then we moved back to our table, where Paul begged George and Tristan to explain to Lukas how their seal was unbreakable from the inside.

And when they were done, Paul stayed at our table to watch Lukas and me dance. It was as thrilling as the last time, ever faster and faster, spinning and turning, Lukas really seemed to be flying, and he took me with him.

So many excellent dancers in our little group, and all different. After two rounds with Lukas, I had to sit down again for a moment, and saw Jonathan coming towards us.

He had had a good time too, I could clearly see that. He sat down with his drink, and said: 'There are some really weird things going on here.

I was dancing with a girl who wanted to skip a round, and go to those bushes over there. I guessed what she wanted to do there, so I thanked her politely and danced with Ilsa and Julia instead.

You could have warned me.

And Tristan, he hadn't a clue either, and he was positively shocked. Though flattered as well I guess, I'd never have guessed he's such a good dancer as to attract that kind of girl.'

We excused ourselves as well as we could, which was not very.

We should have thought of it.

He finished his drink and observed: 'Oh well, no harm done. I'm off again, that girl there is waiting for me, just to dance. Bye!'

Now, Paul was invited to dance by the same girl as before, and I saw Lukas unattended, so I walked towards him for another dance. Soon, I was flying about the dance-floor again, head spinning, other couples rushing past, and when that song ended I was totally giddy.

Paul's partner went for Lukas, probably looking for the fastest spin ever, and I stumbled into a pair of arms I expected to be Paul's, spinning away again.

But the man holding me didn't feel familiar at all, so I took the time to look up at him, shocked to recognised the man who had assaulted me on my final inspection of the building site.

He didn't look as angry as I expected, and I wasn't scared in such a public space, but it wasn't exactly comfortable, though he was a very adequate dancer for his size.

He said: 'So you're getting married, are you?' Instead of the: What's it to you? I felt on the tip of my tongue, I replied: 'I am indeed, tomorrow actually.'

'Congratulations. You got me fired,' he added, and I replied: 'Thank you. Actually, you got yourself fired, by trying to molest me. I could have gone to the watch, there was a witness.'

He digested this and said: 'You might've liked it, still might. What'd you say we skip a dance and then you talk to Mr Jones to help me get my job back?'

'Mr Jones was the witness, I don't think he'll have you back,' I said, 'and I'd rather finish this dance and go back to my companions.'

I guess he heard the total lack of fear in my voice, and maybe he remembered being stunned by a slap from my hand, for he spoke no more, we danced the round in silence, and when the music stopped, Paul was there, asking: 'Will you please permit me this dance, Miss Thorn?'

I replied: 'Why yes, Mr Kenwick, I'd love to dance with you as Miss Thorn one last evening. As Mrs Kenwick it'll somehow be different.'

The large molester watched this scene unfold with something like horror. He said: 'K. ..that your husband?'

'I will be tomorrow, Paul Kenwick, how do you do?' he didn't expect Paul to answer, and replied almost shocked: 'Shane Peters, sir, I didn't mean...'

Then the music started again, and Paul spun me around and around, until I was very giddy as well as very happy.

Soon after that we were tired and dizzy, and decided to go home.

Tomorrow would be a busy day, and I wanted to make an early start, spend some time with Lukas before we went to church. I had no idea whether it would be hard on him to see Paul and me get married, I didn't think so, but I wanted to show him my love before we started any ceremony just in case.

We had our balance back by the time we got home, and managed the stairs easily. The statues kept their silence this night, and we were soon asleep.

The next morning I remembered a dream, but a normal one, where we were trying to get married but everything went wrong, arriving late, forgetting the rings, stuttering during the vows, and so on. I supposed that was normal when one was getting married the next day.

Paul was still fast asleep, as usual, and Lukas was too. That was kind of weird, for he usually woke up before me, but it was fun to watch him sleep for once.

He looked as boyish as Paul did asleep, but then he always did somehow. I wondered how old he was, he looked twenty, but we had never asked him.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

I was hoping for some rough lovemaking this morning, so I meant to scratch Lukas' horns a little, which usually warmed him up quickly.

And today was no exception, I had not even touched his horns, just his hair covering it, when he grabbed me and kissed me intensely, pulling me over himself.

We kissed and groped, and I suggested: 'Let's go upstairs,' and we did, quickly and quietly. Once there, I imagined being taken roughly by my indefatigable lover, but he had different plans, wooing me more tenderly than he ever had, showing me the same adoration Paul sometimes did.

I still got the feeling he was saying goodbye, did he know something we didn't?

Or was it just that he couldn't free himself from his biggest fear? I decided to let him lead the way, this was clearly something he needed to do, and to be honest, he was the true master of making love.

This was his true art, and today was his masterpiece.

Once he had activated every inch of my skin by stroking it, kissing it, tasting it until my whole body tingled in anticipation, he spread my legs and explored every tiny crease and fold with his tongue, until he found the place that stimulated me the most.

Then he used that knowledge to send flashes of pure bliss through my whole body, reaching nerve-endings I didn't know I had. In that state, even a caress of my leg, or my belly was incredibly titillating, and it didn't take long before I was rushed into a climax.

On that high he went on, his tongue continuing its electrifying exploration, and a few fingers now entering me to stimulate from the inside.

I felt the world start to spin, and surrendered myself to it, letting my lust take over completely, shuddering with pleasure at this ever rising bliss.

It rose, and still rose, and then, when it felt as if it couldn't go any higher, there was an nearly explosive release.

And that was the moment that I felt Lukas fill me up in an instant, his warm muscled body with its musky scent on top of me, his sensuous mouth with the dented lip on mine, his movement exactly right to ride wave after wave of pure delight, his mouth now on my breast, sending a strong thrill through my whole body, his thrusting speeding up, faster and faster, until I spasmed with the force of my climax, and he arched high, and crashed in release.

I held his heaving, sweating chest against me, kissing him on his mouth, tasting myself on his tongue. He managed to lie still until his breathing was back to normal, and then he started to stir, restless but not clear in what he wanted.

'Can we go back down now?' he asked, 'I want to continue this, but not without Paul. Do you agree?'

Did I agree? The whole idea made me thrill with excitement all over again, and I nodded frantically. He gave me his sweetest smile, got up and offered me his hand, which I took.

We were down the stairs in a minute, and back in bed, where Paul was still asleep, smiling at a secret thought in his dream, clearly a pleasant one.

'Will you wake him?' I asked in a whisper. 'He's dreaming something pleasant, better not,' Lukas said. But he couldn't resist touching Paul's hair very gently, stroking the loose brown curls with an expression so loving it was almost painful to see.

If it hadn't been Paul he was looking at like that, I swear I would have felt a stab of jealousy right there and then, but as it was, I had the same feelings towards the man his love was aimed at, so I understood completely.

'Do you think he'll really dance with me tonight?' Lukas asked, looking at me with hope written all over his face.

'You know he will, he promised,' I replied, 'Lukas, you love him more than anything, don't you, even more than you love me?'

'I can't measure love like you Victorians do, Melissa, but I love him way more than he will ever be able to return, whilst you love me as much as I love you, as much as I can love anyone.

Not being able to show it all the time kind of saves it up for the moments I can let it out, like a dammed river let loose. Does that make sense?'

It did, and I felt for him so much that I just had to hold him close to me, sitting together on the bed, watching Paul sleep, our love for him binding us nearly as much as our love for each other.

Lukas continued to very tenderly stroke Paul's hair, I could see he wanted to kiss him, but he controlled himself, forcing himself to wait until Paul showed signs of waking up.

I thought he could just wake Paul up with a nice kiss, but Lukas was always very careful with intimacies towards Paul, still afraid of rejection, even after having been very intimate already several times.

Paul clearly showed his love for Lukas, but still Lukas was shy around him, which he never was around anyone else. I secretly wondered if Lukas might even have become an exclusive lover if Paul had been able to return all of it.

Fortunately we'd never know, I didn't even want to think about living without either of them anymore. With incredible courage, Lukas had now progressed to stroking Paul's stubbled cheek, and he even dared kiss him lightly on the lips.

This caused a stir in Paul, he became a little restless, and Lukas shied back instantly. But it seemed that Paul was less asleep than we both thought, for his hand reached out and caught Lukas by the back of his head, pulling him in to finish that kiss.

'Why so shy, my love,' he said when they both had to breathe again, 'you're so anxious when it comes to touching me, it makes me feel like an ogre, I really won't bite you, come to me.'

Those had always been the magic words for Lukas, and he quickly laid down on top of Paul.

Paul sniffed at him and observed: 'Hmm, you smell nice, the two of you been busy? Do I get my share as well?'

Lukas became shy again, and Paul said in a very low voice, as if not to scare the creature behind the hearth: 'You can touch me, Lukas, really. I want you to. I give myself up to you.'

And he held his hands behind his head as if they were bound, puzzling Lukas and causing him some visible disturbance.

'Oh come on you sweetheart, what have I done to you to make you so anxious?' Paul sounded so sweet now, so enticing, it just pierced my heart.

And finally Lukas started to believe he had a right to touch Paul, as Paul had touched him before, and he did it as totally as he touched me just now.

I got to watch, and as always, seeing my two men loving one another was just the most thrilling experience. And Lukas proved again that this was his real expertise, he explored every bit of Paul as thoroughly as he had touched me, only he had never dared touch him often so everything was special, and he took his time.

The curls he had so longingly stroked were first, running his hands through them, feeling the face, first with his hands and then with his mouth, kissing it, tasting it. He admired the stubbled cheeks, the squared jaw, the strong neck, even his ears were touched and nibbled. I could see Paul shiver with feeling, and when he took my hand I could feel his emotions and his passion stirring.

Lukas was not really aware anymore, he was totally focussed on Paul, and except for that one hand I held, Paul on him.

The rough hands that could do so many different things, they were felt and kissed, and the muscular arms, shoulders and chest. Lukas clearly enjoyed Paul's scent as much as I did, for he spent some time taking it in, not stopping his caressing of the man he finally dared to touch all over.

The chest had to be felt in an embrace as well, and Paul needed his hand to return it with feeling. The sight of those to men embracing tightly was nectar to my eyes, and caused a tightening in my still tingling loins. It remembered our love-play, and hoped for some more.

On Lukas went, leaving every inch of Paul's body as stimulated as he did mine, I was sure of that. I soon got the hand back, keeping in touch with me, and I felt it communicate all the excitement running through the rest of Paul's body.

The blanket was moved out of the way, and uncovered a sizeable erection. It got a little taste of what was to come, and that caused another shudder through Paul's entire body, including the hand I was holding. But just as Paul had done, Lukas wasn't ready yet for that very sensitive part, there were more nerve-endings to awaken first. Not as heavily developed as Lukas', Paul still had respectable leg muscles, and he was slightly ticklish to the touch.

That was too much, so Lukas moved on quickly to the strong feet, and turning him on his stomach, to his very attractive, well-fleshed bottom. That got quite a lot of attention, I knew how good it felt from my own experience.

Of course Lukas couldn't help letting his hand follow the cleft between the two cheeks, ending up at that very sensitive spot just behind his testicles, and rubbing that caused Paul to moan a little in delight.

Now Lukas moved on to Paul's back, following the muscle and ending up at the livid scar where the bullet had struck him. Lukas felt it expertly, then kissed it with feeling, no doubt remembering the time when it had been inflicted, less than two weeks ago.

After that there were just the shoulders left, and turning Paul again he kissed him deeply, every

touch of his hands causing a thrill through the totally activated body.

And now Lukas deemed the time ripe for the ultimate touch, taking Paul's eager penis in his full hand, and then in his mouth. He moved over it expertly, causing Paul's excitement to rise even more quickly than usual.

But Lukas was the real master here, and he let it go for a few moments, stroking Paul's testicles and inner legs, until the excitement had fallen off a little, then back in his mouth, but a little less fervently now, to keep the passion down, making Paul last as long as he could.

Which was not very long, but seeing Lukas finally able to touch Paul was worth gold. When Paul had come in the same explosive way as I had an hour ago, Lukas knew he would have to unleash his own worked up heat on me.

This was as far as he could go with the man he loved so passionately, and he accepted that. And when I saw that hungry look in his eyes, my lust sprang to life with a rush of physical heat, grabbing hold of Paul's hands and virtually demanding him to kiss me, as Lukas' body landed on mine and his magnificent erection plunged into me once more.

It felt like lightning striking me, Lukas was pumping away all his pent up energy and all his anxiety, and the effect was ecstatic.

Paul was lying against me nearly asleep again, he was clearly feeling the results of his explosive release just now, but I held him close and just let wave after wave of pleasure come over me.

How did Lukas do it, last so long whilst going at it at that pace, I didn't know, but I sure enjoyed it to the full.

I felt a high come and go, then felt another one creep on to me, slowly but inexorably, demanding an outlet by making some excited sounds, then rising quickly and end suddenly in delightful release.

Nearly at the same time I felt Lukas' slight weight land on me once again, and once again I held him in my arms, now sharing the pleasant feeling of his sweating, heaving chest with Paul, who wanted him in his arms as well.

'You're worth your weight in gold all over again, horny man!' the voice in our heads cried out in triumph, reminding us that we had spectators.

We didn't even care, and Paul voiced the reason: 'So now you have said goodbye to us, Lukas, and it was incredible, but why won't you believe me? It will not happen!'

And the voice in our head echoed: 'He's right you know, it will not happen.'

Lukas sounded small at being found out, and replied: 'I just have this really strong foreboding I will not be able to stay here, I can't help it.'

And what could we do besides hugging him until he felt better? We could not take his fear away from him, and we would have to get married in the knowledge that our very dearest friend would not be able to enjoy the day, would not be able to enjoy any day anymore for fear of being stolen away.

Looking at Paul in helplessness, I saw his face trying to look encouraging towards me. It seemed he had hopes for a solution, even if I didn't.

Still we dressed our best, I let my hair loose, and Paul put the golden necklace around my neck. It was stunning, the green of the stone matching the green of my dress beautifully, the workmanship of the tiny claws holding on to each other perfect.

Then Paul showed me my ring, it was gold of course, but much simpler than the necklace, just three golden threads crossing one another in an intricate pattern. Paul looked at me like he used to do when he was longing for me, but unable to put that longing into words or actions, and as it used to do then, his look caused my heart to skip a beat.

We stood in silence, and when we both remembered to breathe again, he gently took my hand and tried the ring on it. Of course it fit perfectly, we all knew it would. He carefully took it off, and put it back in its little silver box.

Then Lukas stepped forward, and handed me a similar silver box, asking: 'Will you please open that for me?' I did, and in it was another golden ring, larger, but with the same three threads in a different, but just as intricate pattern.

'It's beautiful, Lukas,' I said. Lukas smiled and replied: 'I made it for Paul. He hasn't seen it before now.

Will you try it on him?' I handed him the ring and said: 'No Lukas, I will put it on him in church, this time, you should have the honour.'

And indeed Lukas took the larger, calloused hand in his own slimmer one, and carefully put the ring in its place. It also fit perfectly. Paul studied it for a moment, then kissed Lukas and said: 'It's beautiful Lukas, you have learned a lot in a few months. Thank you so much.'

As Lukas removed the ring and put it back in its box, Paul gave him the other box as well, asking: 'Will you keep both of them until they are needed?'

Lukas nodded, and put both rings away in the pocket of his vest. He had taken to wearing one too, it was just so practical to have a lot of pockets when working, and this was the posh version, of a fine quality leather, with brass buttons and of course tailored to fit his slender shape exactly.

Now we were all ready to go to church, and in good time. We were going to walk there, for my father would join us at the church to give me away, and then we would be fetched by George's carriage to the Nomes' estate for the party.

Just before we were going to step out of the door, Paul looked up as if he heard something, though everything was silent. Still, he told us: 'Please wait another moment, I have some wedding guests to collect.'

And he went up the stairs, returning within a few seconds with a satchel over his shoulder. 'Ready, let's go,' he said, not volunteering what he had fetched at such a short notice, but I was getting quite a bit nervous now, so I didn't ask what his cryptic remark meant.

He took my arm, Lukas the other, and off we went.

Paul seemed a bit distracted on our way, as if he was thinking really hard about something that was not pleasant to consider. I hoped it wasn't our coming wedding, but of course I had enough faith in our love not to really believe that.

And after a few minutes it was over, he was cheerful again, and Lukas also did his very best to appear normal. In a rising mood we arrived at the church, where my father was waiting.

We greeted each other with a kiss, and the guys shook hands with him, and I asked: 'I never asked, is it a problem for you to enter a church?'

He laughed, and said: 'If it was, I would have warned you. My gods are not as strict as the god of this church, and because I know them a lot more personally, I also know they are happy whenever someone finds their true love.'

And to be sure, he entered the church without discomfort, greeting the vicar politely, in every way a proud dad with a daughter on the brink of marriage.

The ceremony was short and to the point, at our request.

We stood by the altar, I with my dad, Paul with Lukas, and when the vicar started the ceremony my dad handed me to Paul with a flourish.

This gesture made us all smile, and soon after we both spoke our vows, and Lukas handed us the rings, Paul put the one he made on my hand, and I put Lukas' ring on Paul's.

Then we exchanged our wedding kiss. Lukas was the first to congratulate us both with a tight hug and some kisses.

My dad admired the ring on my hand as he kissed me to congratulate me. Then he shook Paul's hand, admired his ring as well, and observed: 'I know you will make my daughter very happy, I'm glad you two are married now.

You are a really good metalworker, Paul, these rings are the work of an artist.' Paul thanked him for his compliment, but added: 'Only Melissa's ring is my work, Lukas made the one I'm wearing.'

That impressed him even more, and he told Lukas: 'Then you are an artist as well. That is exquisite work. And I know you make my daughter happy as well, even though you were not before the altar with her.'

Of course Lukas would hug him there and then, and my father did so without any restraint.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

After settling with the vicar, we waited for the carriage and drove towards the manor-house in a leisurely way.

My father was very interested in Lukas, and spent the time we were driving talking with him. Paul and I sat hand in hand, silent, husband and wife now.

When we arrived at the manor house, the lawn had been decorated with flowers and lanterns, and there were chairs placed upon it in rows. George and Frances were hosting, and quite a few guests had already arrived, my mother, both my sisters and their children, running around on the rest of the lawn with Bertha and the few rescued children still resident.

Tristan. Ilsa, Julia and Marcus were there, as well as Jonathan and Jonas. We greeted them all with a hug, and I introduced Paul and Lukas to my sisters. They had not brought their husbands, I suspected my father to have a hand in that, for both my sisters had married mundane men, and of course this ceremony would not be the traditional wedding they were used to.

When we were talking to my sisters, Paul and Lukas of course very interested in the similarities and differences between them and me, George came towards us quite diffidently, as if he had news but didn't know how it would be received.

'Paul, Melissa, I have some unexpected guests for you, who have elected to stay in the back garden for a moment to see if they are indeed welcome at this party.

I must admit I gave them the knowledge of your marriage, and they wanted to attend very much. Please come with me.'

Paul of course had an idea who these mystery guests would be, they had been close friends to George and Frances in their youths after all. He didn't look particularly happy about it, but resigned rather than angry or disappointed.

As we rounded the house and entered the garden, I could see a very elegant woman and an even more elegant rather tall man, both very well-dressed.

They were a little older than George and Frances I guessed, more my parents' age. The man bore a striking resemblance to Paul, only with the clear upper-class air that his son so distinctly lacked.

Of course Paul handled the situation calmly, in a way he must have realised they had a right to be present at his wedding.

He embraced his mother first, and shook hands with his father, and his reticence was clear, as well as his parents' regret at this aloofness. I had a distinct feeling they did not understand how their youngest and most talented son had come to be so far removed from their own little world, and I was very curious as well as a little apprehensive how they would receive me, a commoner, and not even talented to their sight.

I would soon find out, for Paul took my hand and said: 'Mother, father, may I introduce you to my bride, Melissa Kenwick. She is also my apprentice in the arts, and a gifted engineer.

Dear Melissa, these are my parents, Mary Kenwick and Edward Kenwick, adepts in the guardian tradition.'

They seemed ready enough to welcome me into the family, Paul's mother, a small woman with straight brown hair put up in an intricate hairstyle, and an elegantly cut dress in a rather sober colour and fabric, said: 'You are beautiful, Melissa, may I embrace you? We're related now.'

And of course I embraced her, I got no feeling from her that she thought me beneath her notice, but of course she might have the same iron self-control her son had.

Her embrace felt genuinely friendly, and then I was addressed by Paul's dad, a mirror image of his son, same finely chiselled features, same curly hair, though greying in his case, same intelligent eyes, but also the same reticence that had characterised Paul in our early acquaintance, only rather stronger.

He felt so familiar I couldn't help spontaneously embracing him as well, and though it did surprise him it did not put him out, fortunately. He said: 'Welcome to the family, Melissa, did I hear right that you are Paul's apprentice as well as his wife? I can't see any talent in you? Nor in you for that matter Paul, what happened?'

I could imagine Paul preferring the company of George and Frances, his parents clearly meant well, but it seemed they lacked a little feeling, for a sensitive boy without siblings his own age it must have been lonely growing up without actively being loved.

Taking his hand, I heard him tell his dad: 'Don't worry dad, I'm as strong as ever, and Melissa has plenty of talent to train, we've just gotten a new shield to protect us from being spied out by witch hunters.

Living in the city among the people it is wiser to not be broadcasting our power.' His dad didn't let up: 'And have you reached adept status by now? Last time we met you were still only a master.' 'Dad, I've been twenty-one for half a year, and I've been made master-craftsman and finished my refuge. I have no time to practice magics constantly,' Paul sounded disappointed by now, and I understood completely, this was no talk for a wedding day in general, and he hadn't seen his parents for years, they might show some interest in him as a person.

Still his dad wouldn't let it go: 'Your mother and I never understood why you'd want to be a physical labourer in the first place. You're a Kenwick, and an active guardian, magic should be your only goal in life.'

This started to sound like well-trodden paths, and I was now desperately thinking of something to say to stop this weird cross-examination without offering insult to his father.

Paul couldn't step out of his path either, and observed: 'I practice magic because I have to, because I can't not be a guardian.

But I am a crafter because I love doing metalwork, because it makes me happy. Besides, it pays the bills, practising magic doesn't.'

This upset even his mother: 'But darling, you don't have to work for a living, you're a Kenwick mage, the strongest potential in decades, the youngest guardian ever, you could have been an adept years ago.

We'd be happy to set you up with an income, and a house in a better neighbourhood, where you needn't hide your talent. We could introduce both of you in the highest circles, you could even practice your metalwork in your spare time, people love a certain quirkiness.'

They were clearly hopeless. Paul squeezed my hand and I looked at him in sympathy, as he said decisively: 'You know I want to be independent mother, we're making an excellent living for ourselves, and we're very happy in our current home.

Let me introduce you to our intimate friend Lukas, and then we can start the ceremony, everybody is here.'

Paul now led his parents around the house towards the lawn, where Lukas was playing with the children and with Jonathan.

We walked right up to him, and of course he clearly recognised Paul's parents straight away, falling into his role of herald automatically.

'Mother, father, our best friend Lukas Hermeides, an exceptional healer from traditional Greece, Lukas, please meet my mother and father, Mary and Edward Kenwick.'

Lukas bowed elegantly and said: 'Pleased to meet you, sir and lady Kenwick, I can clearly see where Paul got his good looks, and his talent.'

They were as puzzled by him as nearly everyone else who had a trace of talent, he seemed a noble Englishman, but he had a foreign name and an alien feel.

At that moment, George appeared in his formal robes, a splendid figure of midnight blue and silver. Paul left his parents to Lukas for a moment, and I saw him talking to my dad for as much as ten minutes.

But Lukas had no trouble at all to entertain the Kenwicks, his easy manners and polished appearance clearly impressed them a lot, and they answered his questions about their estate, their respectable family, their other children and their hopes for Paul with eagerness, showing a personal interest in Lukas as well, which I couldn't help but realise they hadn't shown at all towards their own son.

When Paul came back we all sat down for the ceremony. George was also going to keep it to the point, just a short history of how this marriage came about, exchanging vows, and on to the party. My dad and Lukas took up their positions again, except that they didn't have the rings anymore, we'd keep those right where they were.

I looked over the people gathered before us, and they all had some connection or other with magic, something I hadn't even realised really existed six months ago.

Suddenly I noticed the silver elven statues together on a chair in the audience, and I nearly laughed out loud at the implications of their presence at another wedding. They had been in the satchel Paul was carrying, they had most likely asked him to be allowed to attend the wedding, I supposed they liked weddings. I hoped they would bring us good luck, even though they were not originally made for us.

George began to speak, and he described how we met, and how we came ever closer together, not leaving Lukas' role out of it.

Then my father handed me to Paul again, and we exchanged our vows once again, including Lukas in them as we hadn't in church.

Surprisingly, Paul now held out his hand to Lukas, and when Lukas put his own into it, as was clearly Paul's intent, he fished something out of his pocket, and to Lukas' shock and delight he put a third ring of three golden strands on Lukas' hand.

Then Paul kissed him lovingly, and immediately afterwards I followed suit. Then Paul and I kissed again, sealing our marriage in front of all our friends and family.

My dad, strangely, had disappeared, maybe he was on his way back to where my mother sat, I didn't know. I hadn't seen him leave.

Our small audience came forward to congratulate us as well, whilst some members of the staff were clearing away the chairs, and a little orchestra was setting up for the dancing.

I was busy shaking hands and hugging, when I heard a disturbance behind me, and an exclamation of horror from Lukas.

My eyes were pulled towards him and I saw him nearly fainting in fright, and as I moved towards him to support him, I looked in the direction of his gaze and the ruckus, I saw something I had seriously not considered ever seeing for real.

A tall, athletic man with the face of an angel came striding towards us, arms wide in welcome, gladness all over his features.

A hushed awe fell over the crowd surrounding us, and when he came closer I realised why: his presence was overwhelming, radiating friendship and benign dignity, making me feel like I was very special, reminding me of the dreams where I had loved this man intensely, leaving home and country behind to be worshipped by him and his people.

I managed to help Lukas up despite the overwhelming feeling, and I could see his intense fear had changed into worship as well.

Some part of my mind now detached itself from the bespelled part, and said sarcastically: 'It's just a trick, you know, you can shake it off easily, look at Paul and the other mages, they're not impressed.' Of course that wasn't part of my mind, but the voice of the statue, and it was right.

Looking at Paul, his parents, Tristan, George, Frances, and even Marcus and Jonathan, I could see they were wary and not glamoured at all.

Feeling a bit dirty again, I soon felt the glamour for what it was, and I poked Lukas in the side with an elbow, hissing: 'It's not real, Lukas, shake it off.'

But apparently he had heard the voice as well, for he had already reverted to his original state, though somehow he seemed less frightened.

Maybe he was one of those people to whom an imagined threat was more paralysing than any real danger. He certainly had never let us down in a dangerous situation before, he had always acted quickly and adequately, even though those situations had been less personal of course.

Anyway, by this time the man had come close and tried to embrace Lukas jovially, but Lukas ducked his grip and fled behind me.

I remembered my role-playing, and tried to look adoring, and when the tall man noticed having been thwarted I saw just a fleeting look of anger pass over his beautiful face, then he was all smiles again, and he hugged me instead.

I let him, reminded of Lukas' warning not to aggravate him too much. He was immensely strong, and he smelled divinely, even more enticing than Lukas. When he put me down again, Paul was next to me, and all the better for I nearly swooned.

I, Melissa Kenwick, rational woman of a modern age, nearly swooned. I tried not to show the humiliation and anger I felt, keeping my face bemused.

Now our unwanted visitor addressed us in a ringing voice: 'Congratulations on your wedding, may you live long and in prosperity, Paul and Melissa. I owe you great thanks for taking in and caring for my precious son when he was taken from me.

And now he has seen you safely married, he can come home with me, to his own people, where he belongs. My dear boy, let me look at you!'

This last was spoken directly to Lukas, who was standing right beside me now, in defiance, supported by the independent attitude of all his friends. He could tell they would act on his behalf whenever he needed the help, and they were a formidable set.

I truly thought I saw from a corner of my eye how George quietly mingled with his guests, directing the mundanes to a safer place, and forming a line of impressive mage-power between them and the god Hermes.

Paul's mother and father were there as well, and a little to the side stood my dad, flanked by my sisters. My sisters! Their children were at a safe distance, minded by the older children, excepting Bertha and Lucy, who were watching in fascination how everyone seemed tense and ready for battle.

Lukas stood rock solid as his father, the thought of whom had him reduced to a quivering wreck only this morning, gave him a critical once-over.

Hermes stared at his curly head, and said: 'Hmm, this will not do, it will not do at all,' and with that he reached out for Lukas' head, touched his horn stumps with both hands, and within a second Lukas had a full set of curved horns again.

The silver caps fell to the ground without a sound, and Paul casually picked them up and pocketed them.

Lukas was not so remiss about it, as he felt the weight on his head again, he felt at the horns and said angrily: 'How dare you, have you any idea how much pain it cost me to have those removed?'

Coaxingly, Hermes spoke at his son: 'But you'll need them back home, people will talk if you have no horns. Where did your Gift go, I have seen you with a clear, very strong Gift! We need you at home, son, we need your Gift badly.'

'All lies, father, as ever. Gift or no Gift, I'm not coming home with you, never. I've found a new life here, with people who really love me, for myself, not for whatever Gift you might have forced on me,' Lukas was trembling with rage now, a very weird thing to behold, for I had never seen him angry before.

Combined with the horns, the snarling expression made for a ferocious image, and I felt some real admiration for my goat-man, conquering his fear to stand up to his father.

I could feel the call to worship emanating from Hermes, clearly he expected to be able to spell Lukas into obedience, apparently used to treating his subjects and children with condescension. Lukas showed no sign of falling under the glamour anymore, he kept staring his defiance at his father, and slowly I saw him light up slightly through my dad's shield.

He was using magic, but how? I watched him with sight and saw Paul offering him a link to his power-supply.

I think Paul knew what Lukas was going to do, for he grabbed his shoulders just in time, as with a grimace of pain Lukas took hold of one horn first, and broke it off below his curls, then the other. He was clearly in agony, without Paul's help he would surely have fallen, but as it was he was hornless again within five minutes.

Paul held him until he could stand again, and undoubtedly remembering the first time he had been through this procedure, very gently parted his curls to check if the stumps weren't bleeding. When he was done, he roughed Lukas' hair and said in a clear voice: 'Nice job, Lukas. Better than the first time.'

By now Lukas could stand alone again, his glow faded, and he defied his father once more.

But Hermes was a god and used to get his way, so he said: 'You do indeed have a valuable Gift my boy, our people will be so happy to see you back. '

And to Paul: 'You have taught him well, he seems to have more loyalty now than in all his previous fifty years in my realm. That is good, he'll be able to make an advantageous marriage finally.'

Lukas spoke coldly and very clearly now: 'I am not coming with you father.'

Still Hermes didn't give up, and he advanced on me once more: 'My dear girl, can't you convince him to come with me?

You can come too, and you can live together in my palace by the sea. Now I felt his power trying to overwhelm me again, and it was really, really strong.

He seemed to look at me with intense longing, and the remembrance of those heated nights with him stirred a passion in me, a passion to be once again taken on flights, to be admired by a god, and a stunningly handsome god at that.

Poor Lukas wasn't even part of what was promised to me by the hungry gaze of this man, for in his lust he was clearly very human, he wanted me for himself.

But as soon as I felt a slight touch on my mind from two sources, and the incredible love behind both those touches, the passion turned into that dirty feeling again, and I didn't even have to struggle to free myself from his compulsion.

Realising that flattery wasn't going to do the trick, Hermes now changed tactics.

His voice became less honeyed as he said: 'You are still my son and you have a duty to me and your people. You will come with me of your own free will, or I will drag you home with me, in iron chains if needed.

And if I need to do that, you will not live in a palace, married to a luscious maid, but chained in a chamber until your Gift is needed.'

This did frighten Lukas, he had defied his father so far, but could he defy these horrible threats? I did see all the mages present ready themselves for a confrontation, and this prompted me to ready myself as well, reaching out for the ley-line at last.

Paul had one hand in his belt, I guess he had taken the gun with him despite his trust in the seal. Lukas waited until he had control over his voice again and said: 'I am not coming with you father, and you cannot take me.'

At this remark, Hermes laughed scathingly, and spoke icily: 'And who is going to stop me from taking you, son, your puny human friends? Do you think their magic can stop a god?'

At this moment, my father stepped forward, all alone, and he cleared his throat loudly.

Hermes turned around to see who was making the noise, and my father spoke: 'I beg your pardon, Sir Hermes, I was the one who broke the seal on your portal, which you couldn't break yourself.

I decided to give you a chance to see your boy once more, and I was supported in this by Paul, who thought it necessary that Lukas face his fear of you lest it destroy his joy in life.

I have seen enough now, you're not the father the boy needs or deserves, and I think it is time for you to leave.

Mind you, I would not have released you if I didn't have the power to reverse my decision to open the portal for you. So I entreat you, let the boy be, or we will stop you.'

The god clearly couldn't believe his ears. I supposed he had never been spoken to this way, his people always obeyed him, and now we had not only spoiled his son but defied him ourselves.

His angelic face became livid with anger, his beautiful features distorted.

His booming voice cried out in anger: 'You shall all taste my wrath, for I will summon the hound of Hell to devour you all, women, children, all of you.'

I could see him summoning his energy, and he lighted up as a bolt of lightning fires up the sky.

He did not reach for the node or even a ley-line, I guessed he must have had an incredible amount of power himself.

He made a rather theatrical gesture at the ground between himself and the line of mages, and they all lighted up with their own gathering of power.

Some dry part of my mind commented that Hermes' way of using magic was as unsubtle and overacted as the dreams he sent me, and I am sure it was me commenting this time, not the elves.

The gesture completed, an enormous boom followed, and where he directed his power, a two headed dog indeed appeared in the grass.

In one moment, all the mages released their accumulated power, back to their reserves.

The next, we all heard two squeals of delight, as Bertha and Lucy threw themselves on the cutest puppy they had ever seen.

Sure, it had two heads, but this creature was not going to devour us all, unless it was going to lick us all to death. The two girls scratched the floppy ears, one pair for each girl, and in delight the sweet creature fell over on its back and let them tickle its stomach in total surrender, making scratching movements with one little hind leg as they stroked that funny spot on its chest.

It was such a touching sight, the two little tongues licking everywhere, Lucy, the severely traumatised girl, in ecstasy over the hound of Hell, that it took a while before anyone thought of checking on our mutual enemy.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Lukas was with him first, he knelt beside the still shape lying in the grass, checking his vitals.

I knelt beside him, and Paul on his other side. It was very clear that Hermes was in a very bad state, barely holding on to life.

Lukas looked at Paul in an agony of indecision, and asked: 'Can a god die? Must I now save my own father, so he can threaten me again and again?'

My dad was standing very close, and answered Lukas' questions: 'Yes to your first question, young Lukas, your father can die here.

And as for the other question, you will answer that yourself: can you let your father die, despite what he has done to you?'

With tears in his eyes, Lukas admitted: 'I cannot. What is he suffering from?'

My father told him: 'He has the worst case of reaction sickness ever recorded in the history of magic.

He used magic on a world not his own. A god has near unlimited power, because he can use the life-force of his worshippers to do magic.

In your world, Hermes has an incredible number of worshippers, so he is used to having all the power he could ever need.

Here, he had only the power in his own body, which was still a lot. Had he used it to throw fireballs at us, or another direct magical attack, we would have been hard-pressed, some of us might even have been wounded or killed in the battle.

But he went for theatricals instead, calling the hound of Hell to this world. Have you any idea how hard that is?

It used up all his personal power, and then most of his life-force as well, leaving him as close to death as a god can come. And of course, his creation had too little power to be dangerous, it turned out a harmless version of nightmare he set out to create.

What you need to do is give him back enough power to live, but not enough to start throwing fireballs again.

An experienced mage should do this, Melissa might give him too much and make him dangerous again. And remember, sharing power creates a strong bond, so the person feeding him power should be able to withstand the seductive intimacy of the sharing of power, and that will not be easy since he is a god, and a very attractive young man to look at.'

That ruled me out twice, I was not going to risk bringing him back to full power again, if I could even get hold of so much power, and I would certainly not risk falling in love with him, or having him fall in love with me.

Lukas said: 'George, we need George. And will one of you anchor us?' This at us. Paul offered: 'We both will, he is so powerful, his mind will be so vast, we will need all the support we can get. Melissa found you in the maelstrom, she's better at seeing things, and I have more experience and more power.'

By now, George had arrived, and the four of us sat close together around the still shape in the grass. Paul and I sat on one side of Lukas, George on the other, and as we anchored Lukas firmly into the now, George tapped into the ley-line and connected to his mind.

I went along with Lukas, to help him with his task, and where necessary show him the way back, and I could see him use the power George fed him to to fill up the empty satchels where his father's personal power had been.

They seemed like so many bottomless pits, and when George had drained the ley-line he called it quits and took us with him into the now.

He said: 'This should be enough to keep him alive, but you still need to repair the damage that was done when his life-force was drained to be used as magical power.

So now Lukas went in again, this time with George taking power carefully from the node and feeding it to him, and Lukas activated his talent.

I couldn't go with him this time, but I could see the body before me reviving, gaining colour, little spasms activating his muscles from his extremities to his hands and feet, then to his arms and legs, and finally to his torso.

Then I felt Lukas break the connection, and he toppled over into our arms. Paul and I held him close to us, incredibly proud of him, having defied his father through awful threats, then have the compassion to heal him.

George was none the worse for wear, and he proceeded to try and wake up Hermes with one of those bottles of herbs that Frances had brought. She had also brought a whole pot of the special tea, and we all enjoyed a cup.

The smell of the bottle did indeed revive the still shape, he did not have the strength to sit up, but he was awake and aware, though something seemed to bother him. Well, I could imagine that quite easily, I guessed he had planned this day a lot differently.

George was sitting next to Hermes, and the stricken god looked first at him in wonderment and quite a bit of need, then at Lukas, still out cold in our arms.

Hermes was very weak, but he tried to speak. Nothing understandable came out of his mouth. George stroked his short hair, so different from Lukas' rough curls, and his angelic face.

I could still remember what it looked like in the throes of rage, but the memory didn't frighten me. It made me pity him, to have so much power, and so little love.

Under George's gentle ministrations, the god on his lawn accepted he was too weak to speak yet, and he surrendered to the loving touch of the handsome mage. Meanwhile, Lukas started to stir as well, and he revived a lot quicker.

Soon, he sat up against us, and drank his own cup of restorative tea, which brought him to his usual state of exhilaration after a successful healing. He wanted to be kissed by both of us, and we eagerly did.

After that he told Paul: 'You promised to dance with me tonight, will there still be a party?' Paul kissed him again and stroked his rough hair, and replied: 'If anyone deserves a party today, it's you Lukas. I'm so proud of you, you faced your fears today, and you did it with pride.'

Lukas laughed delightedly and laid down on our laps again, this time facing his father, who had been watching our interaction silently, looking up at George whenever he stopped stroking him.

I could see no anger or fear in him, he looked just totally exhausted, and still bothered by that other something, which I suddenly realised was not humiliation, but ordinary pain.

I asked him: 'Do you have a headache?' and got an almost desperate look of incomprehension. Lukas now repeated my question in Greek, and Hermes very slowly nodded in reply, his face showing his pain clearly now, as if he finally understood that the unknown unpleasant sensation he experienced was pain.

George helped him to sit up a little, and held a cup of cooled restorative tea to his lips. After a few sips of that magical stuff he started to look a little better, and he closed his eyes in relief for a few moments.

When he opened his eyes again, there were tears in them, and from that moment on I felt kind of sorry for him, a god brought so low by his own folly and hubris. Frances now came to ask: 'Shall we continue the party? The guest have been calmed down and are ready for some good food and a little dancing.'

George looked at us, and we said: 'Yes, please,' simultaneously. Lukas looked positively relieved and eager to share in the revel. He observed: 'You should join your guests, I'll keep and eye on my dad, will you stay too, George?' George said: 'If you want me to, Lukas, I will. They can party without me, Frances has everything in hand.'

Hermes looked up at George when he heard his voice, still unable to speak, and George resumed his caresses as he said: 'Shall we move our guest to a somewhat more comfortable place, where he can sleep a little?' They carried the motionless man to an easy long-chair on the edge of the lawn, beneath a large tree, a lovely spot, where they could sit in relative quiet and still see the party going on.

When my father offered to stay with them as well, I decided it was time we mingled with the guests, turn this weird occasion back into the party it was meant to be.

We led the first dance of course, Paul and me, but neither of us felt very comfortable partying with Lukas watching over his father after hearing him threaten our friend with everything Lukas feared, and worse.

During our dance, we discussed what was to be done, and after the dance, when the floor was filled with couples, even Paul's parents were dancing, and Marcus led one of my sisters very elegantly, we put our plan into action. I circulated amongst our guests, talking to my mum first, as Paul fetched Lukas for their promised dance.

Of course George and my dad wouldn't mind watching Hermes, who would probably be asleep by now, after such an ordeal. After an hour I would return to Hermes with Lukas, and Paul would entertain our guests.

Lukas would not be left without one of us, it was understandable he wanted to stay with his father and patient, but not with us partying as if he didn't exist.

As I was talking to my mum I saw Paul step on to the dance-floor with Lukas. I said: 'Mum, could we just watch them for a while?'

She looked at me and replied: 'Sure love, if it is not painful to you?

I said: 'It makes me very happy to see Paul and Lukas together. It'll be difficult for them, they're both used to lead.'

I was surprised to see Paul so totally at ease before the entire company, leading Lukas through the next three dances. For of course it was Paul who led and Lukas who followed, Lukas was still so shy towards Paul it was unthinkable he'd take the lead already.

Watching the reaction of our friends, I saw few strange looks. Only my sisters and Paul's parents seemed at all surprised to see the two men dancing intimately, and of course they didn't really know what was going on.

I must admit my feelings were shaken quite a bit, I experienced a decided heat, as always when observing my two men being intimate, and I was very much touched, nearly to the point of crying. Lukas' admission of loving Paul much more than Paul would ever be able to return, and his brave defiance of his father had moved me enormously, and seeing him in Pauls arms now, totally surrendering himself to his feelings, had me very close to tears.

It is as if Paul understood and wanted to cheer him up, for after the third dance he led Lukas towards the orchestra, exchanged a few words with its leader, and the music changed towards the style of the dance yesterday, happy and very, very fast.

This had the young people cheering. Of course Tristan and Ilsa joined the fun, and Julia and Jonas, and Jonathan had convinced Lucy to brave the dance floor.

Marcus was now testing my other sister's stamina, and Frances had ensnared Paul's father, though of course they had known each other for years. He kept up rather well, she was superb, same as yesterday.

My main focus was on Paul and Lukas of course, and Lukas was flying already. Paul even managed to let him lead, and my admiration for their dancing went up even more, they looked so well together.

After two more dances, Paul parted from his partner to mingle with the guests, and Lukas asked me to dance with him, before he saw to his father again. It was another slow dance, and as I held Lukas, who was only slightly out of breath, I laid my head on his chest and just enjoyed his strong lead and his musky scent for a few minutes, not trusting myself to speak to him, for I was still so affected by his situation today that I would surely lose my self-control and spill a few tears.

After those few minutes, he broke the silence: 'I'm so happy Melissa, I don't have to fear my father anymore, and I finally got to dance with Paul. It was wonderful, you know he told me he wanted it as much as I did. I think I was mistaken, he does love me as much as you do, he doesn't want to have intercourse with a man, but that is just sex, not love. Imagine him having thought of making a ring for me, similar to the one you both have?'

That had been a pleasant surprise, for me too. It must have made a huge impression on Lukas, even though his worst nightmare had come true immediately afterwards. Lukas said: 'I've been in fears over my father for weeks, I'm almost relieved he really showed up, for if he hadn't, I would still be so very afraid. You will stay with me when I go sit with him, won't you?'

I kissed him, and replied: 'I certainly will. We're not going to leave you alone with him.' So I had been wrong, he hadn't been feeling melancholy dancing with Paul. So much the better.

I knew I needn't be jealous, but I did feel a little left out. Still, we all would at times.

After the dance we got something to eat and then we sat with Hermes, giving George and my dad the opportunity to party a little themselves.

Before he left, my father asked Lukas: 'I hope you can forgive me for setting your father free, you know he really couldn't have broken that seal from the inside.

But I thought he had a right to see you one more time, and Paul told me you were so afraid of him it might ruin your life, always living in fear.'

Lukas embraced him and said: 'As I said to Paul when he asked exactly the same thing: thank you for freeing me from my own fear. Now I can truly be myself, and when he is back to where he came from I'll feel as free as a bird.'

This troubled my dad, and he said: 'Lukas, please don't forget that your father is used to being a god, and to be obeyed.

Your people have set him up to be what he is. Having fallen and proven to be as fallible and mortal as all of us in this place, he may yet change.

He has felt rejection, failure, and pain, and he is very, very tired now. Maybe he deserves another chance from you?'

For the second time today I saw unfamiliar expressions in Lukas' features, anger, and distrust, and suddenly I understood my father's own motive in releasing Hermes.

Lukas had never known those emotions, and my dad wanted him to overcome them before they became part of his character.

Lukas had taught so many people about love already, and my father wanted him to be able to continue to do so, but for that Lukas needed to be his best self, without our human shortcomings.

Of course Hermes had those all too human traits as well, he had proved it to us today by the things he had said to Lukas, the threats he had delivered to the sweetest person I had ever known.

And I think my dad wanted Hermes to be the next person to be taught about love by his own son, making him a better man and a better ruler through his experience here on our world.

I had always liked my dad, but now I could really admire him as well. He seemed much more than just a factory worker, more than just a mage even.

Paul's parents had proven themselves so petty and shallow, even though they were fabulously rich and very influential. My dad rose above all that, and I was so proud of him I hugged him closely and asked him to let himself be introduced to Paul's parents by Paul himself.

Maybe he could sow some benevolent thoughts with them as well, see if they might show some real, honest interest in their deserving son. My dad promised, and left for the party.


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Lukas and I stayed behind, and made ourselves comfortable near the sleeping man, sitting in one chair together, kissing and fondling more than a little.

'Show me your horns,' I said, 'how did you manage to remove them so quickly and so neatly? It did hurt, though, didn't it?'

The remembrance was still there, I could see him relive the pain, but he said dryly: 'I was so angry, I felt violated, my body touched without my consent.

In my anger I realised that an act of ultimate defiance was needed, and I knew I could do it. Remember seeing the inside, with the tile-like structures that made up the dead part of the horn?' I nodded, and he continued: 'I separated those tiles one by one, until I got the hang and managed to do row upon row of them, and then the horns came off easily in my hand.

I still want the caps back on, Paul saved them.

It hurt like hell, same as the first time, without Paul's support I would have fainted dead away. You two are so good to me.'

He bent his head so I could find his stumps between the curls, and they indeed looked fine. I scratched the bases some, and he shivered in enjoyment. 'Please go on, spoil me,' he said huskily, 'my feelings have been rocked today, I want to forget the negative feelings my dad gave me, they're just not part of me.'

And of course I scratched his horns, and he settled against me, just enjoying my touch, no heat rising in him.

I felt him touch my mind and I invited him in, and then we shared our love and our feelings truly, but not passionately, for the first time ever. I think we had been really close for half an hour or so, when the shape in the easy chair began to move.

We both looked at him, and he reminded me of Paul when he was at his worst, Hermes was not feverish, but he was clearly in pain.

Lukas got up, our moment together had passed, and he asked: 'Will you be all right if I leave for a moment, to get painkillers? He seems to be in a lot of pain. I feel sorry for him.'

I agreed, and he left at a run. The angelic face before me, so well-known to me from those embarrassing dreams, now distorted in waves of pain. I felt really sorry for him, this was the first time ever he had been totally helpless and in pain, and it debilitated him totally.

No-one should fall this deeply, it was humiliating. Even remembering what he had threatened Lukas with, I couldn't help moving in to comfort him, though my common sense told me he had deserved this, my feelings told me to give what solace I might by offering a soothing touch, some heart-felt compassion.

When Lukas returned, he found me sitting with his father, holding his hand, stroking his short hair. The beautiful face was still showing his pain, but holding on to someone did seem to help just a little.

Together, we helped him up and Lukas fed him the powder, washing it down with water. Awake now, and fighting the pain and thereby making it much worse, Hermes was truly a fallen angel, beautiful, well-shaped and totally helpless.

I could understand why George would find this very attractive. Not being used to the little pains and illnesses of mortality, Hermes' weakness overruled him totally, and he could not pull himself together.

He clung to me tightly, totally bewildered, holding Lukas' gaze as convulsively as he held my hand. Lukas pulled a chair closer, and tried to reason with him: 'Try not to let it overcome you, father, it's just pain, it will pass.'

Hermes looked at Lukas in total incomprehension, again, nearly in a panic for not understanding him.

Lukas looked at me and said: 'I think he used magic to speak your language, I'm sorry to be rude, but I'll have to speak Greek with him.'

I replied jokingly: 'No problem, but remember, I will understand what you say, so be flattering about me.'

With a sweet smile to me, he touched his father's face and said in that beautiful language: 'Father, don't fight the pain, it will get worse. Try to let it go, it'll pass.'

His father tried to stop fighting the pain, his cramped body tried to relax a little, but his hand clamped mine as tightly as before.

He whispered something, in Greek of course, and Lukas' answer sounded straight in my mind: 'You have no worshippers here, so when you called the hound of Hell upon me and my friends, your power ran out and your body used your life-force to complete the magic. It nearly killed you.'

In Hermes' face, physical pain was now replaced by shame, and I truly thought something like mental pain as well.

He whispered something else. Lukas got that look again, as if he was going to snarl at the helpless man at his feet, and his Greek didn't sound beautiful when he said: 'Are you truly? Or are you just afraid for your life? You promised to make me a captive in your home, worse than a slave.'

I truly didn't like seeing my dear friend this way, it was so unlike him.

But I also remembered his extreme fear, week after week of it, and the threats Hermes had offered him, and I supposed the tension needed to be released as well.

The man in my arms cringed visibly, and whispered again. Lukas sounded more weary than aggressive now, I guess his nature could not keep up his anger for very long.

In a friendlier tone he said: 'What could I have done, father, let you die at my feet when I had the power to save you? I feel what others feel, I must be true to myself.'

Another whisper, and an answer: 'That is the price I pay for my Gift, it takes all I have to offer, and more.

It also demands a price in love. Locked in a room alone and in iron manacles, my first healing would have killed me as certainly as you would have died today.'

Hermes sounded stronger when he spoke again, the painkiller was probably kicking in, or maybe it was the intensity of the feeling that he expressed.

Lukas was truly affected now, and I admired the strength with which he addressed his father: 'I really want to believe you mean that, so I will accept your apology. You are my father and I suppose in a way I still love you. I just don't want to feel this anger anymore, and this distrust towards you.'

And with that, I truly believe he consciously rid himself of his negativity then and there, changing his whole attitude towards his father, becoming the son he would have been if his father had been like mine, supporting, loving, interested in his well-being.

I suppose my face reflected my surprise, for Lukas looked at me beatifically and said in English: 'It is your unconditional love, and Paul's, that makes it possible for me to forgive my father.'

Following his gaze, and looking at me with admiration, despite the pain, Hermes spoke again, still in Greek of course.

And Lukas answered: 'Yes, father, I have never loved anyone like this beautiful girl and her husband. They could have loved each other exclusively, but they have found a place in their hearts for me, and still do not attempt to claim me.

The people of this world have strange customs, but I have learned to fit in and I want to stay here, with Melissa and Paul.'

Hermes looked at me again, almost longingly, and said something in Greek which sounded like an apology, only a lot longer, and Lukas translated: 'He says thank you for making his son happy, and he apologises for trying to take me away from you.'

To be honest, I did feel the attraction of the helpless, beautiful man in my lap. His scent, so much like Lukas, his beauty, and his evident repentance towards his son made me want to caress him, explore his real body.

Ashamed of my attraction to the man who had caused Lukas so much grief, I replied, shortly: 'Thank you.'

Now the painkillers worked and he was no longer in such a pitiable state, my need to comfort a creature in need faded, and I felt smudgy again, feeling my own attraction to him, and his sleek body against my body and his elegant hand in mine, remembering those dreams, reliving the exquisite sex I had with the arrogant father of a most beloved friend.

Suppressing the urge to push him away, I carefully started to remove myself from under him, releasing his hand, trying to hide my ambiguous feelings.

But my rejection clearly hurt Hermes, he wilted, still in pain, needing the support I had given him, and I couldn't let Lukas comfort him, it would be too much to ask.

So I sat down again and held his hand once more, supporting his trembling shape whilst feeling both revulsed and attracted. Hermes asked Lukas something, and Lukas translated: ' Father wonders why you seem not to like him, most women find him very attractive.'

'After sleeping with him in several of those dreams he sent me, I feel a bit smudgy touching his body so closely,' I admitted frankly, and I heard Lukas translate that literally in Greek.

Now Hermes looked at me in shock, and rattled of a string of flowing sentences, an eloquent denial apparently.

He sat up straight, but couldn't hold the pose, falling back against me with a moan of pain, just as Lukas translated: 'He denies ever having sent anyone any dreams, he knew your names and some of our involvements from spying on us from the basement, but he really never sent you any dreams of you and him making love.'

Now Hermes smiled quite charmingly as he said something more, and Lukas added cheekily: 'Though he'd like to.'

With that smile Hermes resembled his son even more, a guileless need for love in his eyes, a playfulness I hadn't seen in him before.

I started to think he might not be as bad as I thought after all, and in a way this guy was my father-in-law as much as that dry noble that had neglected to give Paul some love.

So I ignored the smudgy feeling and just stroked him gently as I had Jonathan, trying to ignore his masculine scent and the firmness of his perfect body.

Nearly asleep again, Hermes said one more thing to Lukas, a question from the tone of his language.

Lukas replied: 'That was George, on whose property we are now. He is an adept mage with great skills, he provided me with the power needed to save your life, and he provided you with any power you have in your reserves right now.

He doesn't think you sent him smudgy dreams, he just likes you.'

That last sentence was spoken with decided humour, could it be that Lukas was kidding his father? And did Hermes look decidedly interested?

Lukas answered another question: 'He will be back with you, yes, he is with his guests right now, but someone will be watching over you all the time, and it will often be George.' This seemed to please Hermes a lot, and he closed his eyes, exhausted. We helped him to lie down again, and within minutes he was in a deep sleep.

As soon as I had carefully removed myself from the chair on which his father was sleeping, I was with Lukas, wrapping him in my arms, and when he rested his head in my bosom, I knew this had been very hard on him.

We sat in total silence, listening to the evening sounds, and after a while his head came up again and he returned my embrace, kissing me with passion, fondling my breasts.

I scratched his horn-bases gently, and now he looked directly at me, eyes on fire. We couldn't leave his father unattended, but don't think that was a problem for Lukas, he knew I was in for some loving or I wouldn't have turned him on further.

He took me to a large tree close to his father's chair, and I still don't know how he did it, maybe it was his son-of-a-god heritage, but he lifted me easily against it, got my skirts up and my underwear out of the way, and really soon he plunged into me, my legs around his hips.

He was rough this time, and I loved every second of it, his mouth crushing mine, his weight against me, and his boundless energy thrusting in me, lifting me up a little bit every time he pushed himself in, giving me a thrill every time he touched me inside.

But when I looked up at him, his face was all determination, his eyes still on fire, I worried a little, this was not my peaceful, loving goat-man.

This man burned inside, still, though he had seemed so forgiving. He caught me looking at him, slowed down a moment to laugh apologetically and kiss me tenderly, fire gone from his eyes, but not his loins.

Then he speeded up again, and my worries disappeared in an all-consuming bliss, release shuddering through me a second later. He grinned and speeded up even more, how did he do it?

My body reacted with even more passion, it was warmed up nicely now, and every thrust hit a nerve inside me.

I could feel him close to his climax, his look became absent, his movement determined, and I helped myself along with my fingers, to release the tension built up inside me by now. We came at exactly the same time, and our groans of release mingled in the balmy summer evening.

Lukas didn't crash immediately, we would have fallen if he did, but as soon as my feet were back on the ground, he did fall into my arms, his mouth nuzzling my neck, his musky scent and the warmth of his body filling my senses.

I stroked his curls, held his chest against mine, and felt him breathing only slightly heavier than normal.

'Do you feel free now, Lukas?' I asked him, and he replied, voice still husky: 'I do, beloved, I do. When he is back through that portal, and the seal back on, I'll feel safer, but having the opportunity to finally speak to my father has been invaluable.

I want to talk to him even more, with Paul or yourself present always, but I have been able to say my say already.

Everything else we manage to discuss is a bonus. So you think we will be relieved soon? I feel like dancing again.'

And sure enough, within a quarter of an hour George came by with Tristan to take the next watch. Tristan, always the practical one, asked bluntly: 'We'll be partying some more, but what about tonight? Where will we keep him, and does he need to be chained?'

Lukas said mildly: 'He is still in a lot of pain when he is awake, and totally bewildered because he has never known any discomfort.

I think he has extensive nerve-damage, he may be days recovering, in constant severe pain.

My guess is, he will not be up to any mischief, but I'm prepared to miss out on some sleep to spare him a dungeon or shackles.

We can take him home with us, we have those elven watch-dogs.'

But here, George stepped in and said: 'I'd like to keep him here, close to the node but shielded from it. I intend to win his confidence so we will not have an enemy at our back.

With the node I think I can defend myself against him even if he does restore to his full reserve.'

Lukas nodded in agreement, and boldly stated: 'He likes you already George, he inquired who you were and if you would come back.

Paul told me sharing power does that to people, and it seems even a god is not exempt from that rule.'

George unconsciously licked his lips and said: 'Let him come to me, and I'll be waiting eagerly. I know he's your dad, Lukas, but he could be your older brother.'

Looking very cheeky, Lukas remarked: 'A lot older brother, George, he's at least a few centuries old.'

Instead of shocked, George looked hungry: 'Image the tricks he's picked up in all those years.'

Now, Tristan shook his head, and observed: 'Let us get him through the reaction-shock first, and only then sell his services to the highest bidder.'

This got a laugh from all of us, and as the men prepared to seat themselves, we went back towards the party.

After a few yards, Lukas turned around, and I looked back too. George had seated himself on the chair where Hermes was sleeping, and the still figure came alive for a moment and snuggled against him, then slept on with an arm on George's leg. Lukas and I looked at each other and Lukas said: 'What can I say, I couldn't resist him either,' and we both laughed out loud.


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Lukas went for the dance-floor via one of my sisters, and I went straight for Paul, who was talking to Jonathan, and who pointed his head at my dad sitting down with his parents and talking away with them.

I just couldn't believe it, my old man, a factory worker, sitting there chatting with the noblest nobles in the county.

'I introduced him to them, he asked me to. They've been sitting there ever since, hanging on the lips of a man they'd not even see if they met him in the street. Do you have any idea what they're discussing?'

Paul was clearly very curious. I told him: 'I asked him to ask you for the introduction. He knows people somehow, can reach their hearts. I thought he might get them to think about how they treat you, they might learn something.'

Paul bowed his head, and commented: 'So you noticed. Somehow they can never be happy for me, not even now. That is why I didn't want them on our wedding, but it was the right thing to do to ask them, I'm glad George did. How's our divine guest?'

Jonathan was feeling a bit left out of our conversation, so I asked him if he had been frightened of Hermes when he showed up.

He said: 'Yes, I was, but with so much power all around me I had good hopes it would end well. And I saw Paul carrying a gun, something a guy from ancient Greece will not be familiar with. I thought he could always shoot him, and your dad didn't seem afraid at all, so I guess my fear didn't last long.

The puppy was hilarious, Lucy just adores it. But how is he, Lukas' father?'

I thought he was very diplomatic, to bring the conversation back to Paul's question, and I replied: 'Not very well, he woke up in a lot of pain, as much as you were in when you had been shot, Paul. So I held him in my arms and Lukas got a painkiller.

And Lukas gave him a piece of his mind, until he didn't like his negative feelings anymore and just forgave his dad.

Oh, he speaks only Greek now, so I could only understand Lukas' part of the conversation. And when the painkiller started to work and I didn't feel sorry for him anymore I felt dirty again, holding him, smelling him after those dreams. But he denied having sent them.'

Jonathan lost me near the end, so I explained: 'A few nights ago, I dreamt of making love to Lukas' dad, not just once but several times. It made me very uncomfortable, and I thought he had sent them to convince me to let Lukas go. But he says he didn't.'

Paul nodded in understanding, and explained: 'I had my doubts about those dreams, after the mirror had moved they went on, but the shields on my home are virtually impenetrable.

And once the mirror was sealed, nothing could pass that seal, and still the dreams went on.

They didn't stop until we got your father's shields, at which exact same moment the elves stopped being able to read our surface thoughts. I suspect our elvish friends sent them, either to amuse themselves or to prime us against what happened today.'

'But how did they know what Lukas' dad looked like?' Jonathan asked.

Boy did he have a quick mind!

'They can see everything in the house, and I guess they studied him for a few days before they alerted us to his presence. The rest of the dream was probably myths combined with their fantasy,' Paul surmised.

Which meant I had been rather unfair towards a seriously injured man, and I felt a little ashamed of myself.

Still, it wasn't as if Hermes himself was saint. I decided to be nicer to him in the future, but not to feel sorry about this evening.

Now Jonathan asked with a broad grin: 'And, do you feel any different now you're married?'

First, I had to laugh at his cheekiness, he was such a nice kid, I really hoped he'd return to us so we could see him grow up and help him reach his potential.

But then I felt Paul's intensity, and turning towards him I saw he had that look again. My body froze and I had to remind myself to breathe, until he broke the spell by smiling affably and telling Jonathan: 'Naw, nothing's changed, really.'

His eyes didn't leave mine, though, and he gently took me in his arms and kissed me with the same intensity with which he had looked at me, reminding me instantly of our first weeks together. How much I had wanted him, and how little encouragement he had given me. And after Lukas came, how Paul looked at me with this intensity, but never acted on it, held back by his innate restraint and his misunderstanding of what was going on between Lukas and me.

'Will you dance with me?' sounded Paul's voice, now very low and husky.

I nodded, and Paul said: 'Will you excuse us, Jonathan, I'm taking my lady to the dance-floor.'

And Jonathan replied: 'Good idea, I think I'll find me a nice girl too.'

It was a slow dance, and we had a very nice, intimate time, going through the next two dances in close contact, almost like a dream.

After the second, I released my new husband to Lukas once more, and found myself swept up by my dad, who said: 'Good, a chance at getting a dance in with my lovely daughter.'

He was glad for the chance to speak to me, and he told me: 'Your husband introduced me to his parents, and they've been more than happy to talk to me. They realised something was lacking in their interaction with Paul, but they had no idea how to reach him.

I've given them some tips, I hope it helps. They were surprisingly friendly considering the difference in class, I suppose my fearless attitude towards your second father-in-law impressed them.'

I remarked: 'Thanks dad, I hope it helps. I had the feeling Paul isn't even trying anymore, but they truly seem to love him.

I think you did the right thing, dad, forcing Lukas to face his father. But Hermes might have attacked you, do you really think you could have withstood him?'

My dad replied: 'He was pretty awesome, but I think I could have drained him myself, yes. I've this whole circle behind me, you see. With so many other adepts to distract him I am pretty sure we would have managed without casualties.

But of course his own hubris did him in much more efficiently, and more thoroughly. How's he? And how's Lukas?'

'Hermes was still pretty bad, in a lot of pain, Lukas said he had damaged nerve endings,' and my father mused: 'Like a lightning strike, that is excruciatingly painful, I feel sorry for him.'

That made the state Hermes was in clearer to me, I thought he was just overreacting to a bit of pain because he wasn't used to feel it.

I went on: 'He asked what had happened, and Lukas told him, quite accusingly, and didn't want to accept an apology.

Lukas explained how being dragged off to heal people would most likely have killed him, and his dad truly seemed to feel that.

Then Lukas threw off his negative feelings and treated his dad as any seriously injured patient, and things looked up.

You were right, dad, Lukas needs to be free of negativity, and I think he has a chance to teach his father some compassion.

He doesn't seem to be a bad man, just spoiled by being all-powerful. Being brought so low, having to rely totally on mere mortals may make him a better person for ever. Though I wouldn't trust him at all whenever he gets his power back.'

Mildly, my dad said: 'I think he may surprise you yet, I think he has the same capacity for loving as his son has. I'm glad Lukas let go of his worst feelings, he is such an untainted creature, I would be intensely sorry to see him hold on to fear or blame.

And what about George, Hermes seemed to trust George a lot.'

I answered: 'Have you heard of transferring power with a direct mind-link?' My dad's eyes went large: 'Heard of it, yes, but we never do it, we prefer ritual transfer of power. Takes a bit longer, but not as intimate.'

'Well, George had no time for rituals, so he emptied the entire ley-line into Hermes' personal stash to save his life. By the time he regained consciousness George was gone from his mind, but I suppose the link was still there.

George doesn't mind having a god aching for him, he likes young men and will indulge him until it fades. Actually, he is planning not to leave an enemy at his back, and I trust him to act ethically.'

I could see my dad doubted the ethics of using a mind-merge to make an enemy into a friend, but he was not going to argue with me.

Instead he asked: 'So you see ley-lines as well. Can you use them?' I replied: 'I can, I often feed Lukas when he's healing.'

'Who'd have thought that, you showed so little potential as a kid. Well, fortunately Paul saw it before a predator or a witch hunter did. And now you are safely hidden and in control.'

We danced in silence now, and I watched Paul and Lukas, talking animatedly whilst dancing, and Jonathan, who was dancing with Ilsa.

'Paul's parents already gone away?' I asked my dad, and he replied: 'I think they're with Frances, for a tour of the greenhouse. They told me they are thinking of getting one of their own.'

When the dance was through, the party started to diminish a little, with my sisters and my parents leaving.

We agreed to meet a little more often from now on, and I really looked forward to that, my sisters were much less stuffy than I remembered them.

I decided to sit with George and Tristan for a while, I had hardly seen them or spoken to them all day, and I wondered what they thought of all that had happened.

As I approached I could see that nothing had changed in the time that I had been dancing and chatting, Tristan and George were talking calmly whilst Hermes was sleeping on his long chair, holding on tightly to George in his sleep.

When they set their eyes on me they greeted me cordially, though quietly, and Tristan invited me to sit on the chair next to him.

I asked: 'How is it going?' and George answered: 'Much the same, I think the poor lad is in quite a lot of pain, even though he is fast asleep.'

Tristan chuckled and observed: 'If he's a lad, George, my great-grandma is a toddler! He's centuries old, don't let his innocent looks fool you. Though I agree with you, he seems to be in pain, and he bears it as a boy would: badly.'

'My father compared the effects of nerve-damage to those of a lightning-strike,' I said. Both men showed their sympathy in their expressions, and George commented: 'That would be excruciatingly painful, I hope it's not that bad.

Though I also clearly remember the things he threatened Lukas with, and all of us, so maybe it isn't just a bad thing for him to suffer a little. Might make him a bit more emphatic. Still, I do feel sorry for him.'

With this remark, he looked at Hermes' still form, and as if he'd heard it, a series of spasm's seized his body and shook it like a dog would its prey, then left him lying still again.

Tristan observed quietly: 'That didn't look to good, I'll go find Lukas to check on him. And then I'll find Ilsa afterwards, see if she'll dance with me a little more. If I can be of any further use please let me know.'

George looked very worried, and commented: 'What he really needs, is to be back in his own country, where his power and immortality would be restored instantly.'

I nodded, and said: 'But according to Lukas, that portal's other end lies in a kind of demon world close to his own, he can't cross that in this state.

And I don't think Lukas will volunteer to take him home and face him with his powers restored instantly. Besides, the damage may be slow to heal, I wouldn't be surprised if it cannot be undone by restoring his power.'

I had a feeling that Lukas might want to try another healing, as he had done in Paul's case, if only to be rid of his unwanted visitor that much sooner.

Within minutes of Tristan leaving to find him, Lukas came, bringing Paul. Lukas asked: 'What happened, Tristan said he had a seizure of some kind?'

He kneeled at his father's side, and touched his face gently, and I was very happy to see that he really seemed to have forgiven his father, for he looked like a concerned son and nothing else. Even George had been less forgiving, thinking out loud that a little suffering might not do this arrogant bully any harm.

'Don't go in without preparation, Lukas, he can seize your mind in his agony and we might never find it again,' Paul said anxiously, 'maybe you shouldn't even touch him without anchor.'

In answer, Lukas held out his one hand to Paul, and only when Paul had kneeled beside him, holding it firmly against his chest, Lukas caressed his father's beautiful features with something much like love.

He explained: 'He was a really good father to me for a long time, doing the things fathers should do for their little boys, playing, teaching, even teasing, but when my mother died when I was near adulthood, it hit him hard, and he started to avoid me.

Maybe I reminded him of her too much, my siblings are only half-siblings, their mothers were not satyrs, they looked more like him. He was milder when she was still alive, I can't remember him ever trying to sway me with his will before that.

But after she died he grew cold towards me, and when my Gift hadn't blossomed by the time I was an adult, he sent me away to Dionysos' court for herald's training.

I had become quite promiscuous, worse than my people usually are, and I had a bad reputation where we lived, he couldn't have found a spouse for me even if he had wanted to marry me off. I haven't had any sign of love from him for twenty-five years, and I have not touched him for as long. I've been wanting to do this for a long long time, even if he is not aware right now.

If there is a chance he'll die, or even if he's healed and leaves, I won't have the chance again, so I'll take it now, in remembrance of the good times we spent together.'

And he continued to caress his father really tenderly, finally getting a reaction when Hermes woke up a little, pain in his every feature, but strong enough to reach out a hand to his son and stroking his rough curls, and his cute face.

They were both crying and I could clearly see that Lukas couldn't stand the sight of his father in such pain any longer. He was going to try another healing, and he would need an anchor as well as someone to feed him power.

'I'll anchor you, you can help him find the problem and feed him power. Use mine, the ley-line is still dry,' Paul said quietly, and I sat down beside Lukas on his other side, touching his bare skin under his shirt with my arm, and his mind with a brushing touch of my own mind.

He let me in, and loosened his talent once more.

Despite his pain, Hermes was following the procedure with interest, and I was a bit afraid to enter his private zone, until I felt Paul's sure touch on my mind, our steady anchor to the now, stronger than Hermes in this condition, on our world, a node with easy reach.

And despite George's obvious partiality for the beautiful young man, I trusted him as well to keep an eye on things from an arcane point of view.

Lukas' talent sprang to life, and I managed to follow it this time, searching for the source of the pain, and finding it, simply put, everywhere. All the nerves in his body, visible as lines endlessly branching in this virtual reality of Lukas' talent, spread densely throughout his entire body but especially dense in his skin and organs, and his brain, all those nerves were on fire from the reaction shock.

It was like lightning reversed, instead of an overload of power these nerves had been drained dry of their power by the failed spell. The effect was much the same, though George had given Hermes enough power back to keep his life-processes going, his nerves were so raw that the very working of those processes hurt agonizingly, and they would keep on hurting until they had recovered from the blow and gone back to their usual quiet state.

I instantly understood that our fear to bring him back to fighting power had saved his life: had George filled his reserves to capacity, his nerves would have shut down completely with the overload of power.

Taking him back to his own world, bringing his power back instantly, would likely kill him as well, the nerve damage had been inflicted here and could not be undone.

He would have to stay here until his nerves could handle power again, and he would have to be sedated against the pain, for the nerves could only heal themselves over a certain period of time. Lukas was already trying to soothe them as well as he could with his talent, pulling a lot of energy out of him which I then replaced from Paul's stash.

I suggested to Lukas he should check Hermes' power level, for if his magical power charged too quickly, or he'd use it before he had healed himself far enough, he would surely lose the use of some nerves, leaving him crippled or even comatose or dead.

And sure enough, Hermes' magical power was already replenishing itself quickly, which was probably why he was in ever increasing pain.

We had to figure out where the power came from, and shut down that source immediately, or he'd be screaming in agony within hours.

This was not an easy task and it fell to me mostly, with Lukas helping me to interpret the flows we saw inside his father's body.

It seemed that magical energy was stored throughout the body, in pockets used solely for this purpose. Hermes' were huge, of course they were, he had managed to call a hound of Hell from his world to ours, on nothing but the power amassed in these pockets.

I watched one to see how it filled up, and saw a tiny trickle coming from inside his own body, that was his personal power, I guessed, for it was blue.

Then there was a sizeable amount of green, coming in from outside, just through his skin. That must be the power one got from a ley-line, only this was too little for a ley-line, it seemed he harvested it straight from nature without even thinking about it. Interesting advantage of being a god, wherever one was?

Then there was a tiny bit of red, but healthy red, maybe power given to him voluntarily by other people instead of forced from them? Maybe he had a handful of worshippers on earth, in a strange cult where they celebrated ancient Greek gods? They would be devastated to miss his visit.

And there was a tiny bit of lighter red coming in, a tiny trickle also, which I couldn't place for now. But the main power coming in was from nature itself, and it was causing him excruciating pain. It needed to be stopped.

Now I felt an urge from outside, someone was pulling us back into the now, worried about us. We knew enough, so we let ourselves be moved, and soon I felt arms around me, holding me up. Slowly I woke up enough to recognize the arms as Jonathan's.

Jonathan? He looked me in the eye and said: 'Paul and Lukas are fine, but Lukas is out cold in Paul's arms, and he asked me to catch you. Tea?'

I felt much better knowing my men were fine, so I said drolly: 'Don't mind if I do.' And soon I was sitting against my own husband, one of his arms around me, the other around Lukas, and I was handed a cup of steaming fragrant tea.

Four sets of eyes were watching me intently, dying to know what we had found out. Looking at Hermes, I could see he was a little better, but not much.

George was giving as much solace as he could, and in a flash of insight I checked their interaction with sight. Pale red energy was emanating from George towards Hermes, and being absorbed by his skin. The realisation made me a bit dizzy, and I was not up to speaking yet, so I sipped more tea, and snuggled against Paul, hoping to get some of that pink stuff myself.

I stroked Lukas' rough hair, giving him some of it too. He didn't look too bad, just fagged. He'd come around soon, and with his energy topped up by Paul and some of that tea he would be able to tell his dad what was wrong with him, and what the cure would be.

I looked at Hermes and said: 'We found out what is wrong with you, you're not dying, but all is not well either. When Lukas here is feeling better he'll tell you all about it.'

Of course, Hermes looked at me uncomprehendingly, but Paul translated what I said in Greek, and to my surprise and delight I could understand what he said in my mind. I continued: 'One thing can't wait, Paul, or rather, George, can you put a shield on him that stops node-energy from entering his body, no matter how tiny the amount? It is only a matter of life and death.'

That got a weird look, but I must have done something right the past few weeks, for without asking any questions, George gathered energy and put a nice blue shield on Hermes, that shrank to fit his body exactly and lost its colour at the same time.

The change on Hermes' face was immediate, he sighed with relief and looked at me thankfully, spilling some Greek words.

Paul translated: 'He has no clue how you did that, but it just about halved the pain he is in.'

I observed: 'And for the other half, he'll have to rely on good old painkillers, so if you would be so kind Jonathan, to please run over to Frances and ask her for the strongest ones Hermes may take?' Jonathan was away without even saying anything, and I poured a cup of tea for Hermes to cool enough to swallow the painkiller with, whilst Paul translated what I had said into Greek.

Now Paul said, a bit worried: 'He's out longer than usual, you were down there for so long, is he all right?'

I asked 'Have you checked his power-level?' Paul nodded, and said: 'All at full strength.' With my new knowledge of pink power, I suggested: Why not scratch his horns a little, I think he needs a bit of love to wake him up.'

I stroked his beloved face whilst Paul scratched his horn-bases gently, and soon Lukas opened his eyes, eager for a kiss or two. I let Paul do the honours, he had been rather worried after all, let him assure himself that Lukas was just fine by sharing an ardent kiss. I poured a cup of tea for Lukas as well, and handed it to him as soon as he was done kissing Paul.

But that wouldn't do at all, he wanted me to kiss him too, so I obliged, how could I ever refuse him a little bit of love? After the kisses, he was happy to drink his tea, resting against Paul, drinking in Paul's obvious relief he was in good health.

Lukas was so good in finding love wherever it could be had, and he was starting to really see the subtle forms it could take as well as the more obvious ones.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Only when his father addressed him with his name, actually, Hermes called him by his Greek name Lykos but that sounded much like Lukas as he pronounced it, did he seem to really wake up, realizing his dad was yet awake, turning around swiftly in Paul's arms: 'Sorry father, I thought you must be asleep. Feel a bit better?'

As his father answered, in Greek of course, Jonathan came running up with a packet and a glass of water.

He helped George to sit Hermes up in the chair, leaning against George for support. This caused quite a bit of pain again, but to relieve the pain he needed to take the powder, that couldn't be helped.

And he didn't seem to mind being held by George one bit. I handed Jonathan the cup with the cooled tea, and Hermes quickly took the powder with it, then drained the glass of water as well. He said something to Lukas, and before Lukas could translate, George replied in Greek.

That was a pleasant surprise for our foreign patient, having his most devoted nurse speak his language fluently.

I checked their interaction with sight, and still saw the pink energy flowing from George into his patient.

But it was clear he wouldn't last long awake, so Lukas sat on his chair with him, and answered his earlier question: 'We found all your nerves totally on fire, when you drained yourself so totally it was like the reverse of a lightning-strike, instead of an overload of power, all the power was pulled out of you.

When George here gave you some power back, to keep you alive, it set all your nerves on fire, causing you intense pain. As your body started to accumulate power again, the nerves got more and more overloaded, intensifying the pain from bad to excruciating.

Melissa and I were away so long because we had to find out where the power was coming from, so we could have it shut down by one of our pet-mages here. I suppose George has already taken care of that, I see a shield on you.

To summarise, father, too much magical power in your body will cause you agony, but it may also damage your nerves further, possibly resulting in disability, coma and even death. I discovered I can only calm your nerves, I cannot heal them, they have to heal themselves and that can take weeks or months.

You will be in pain all that time, and you may not work magic during that process, for fear of a setback. If you think going home might help, please consider this: if the damage is not healed by your return to godhood, the amount of power your body will take in as soon as you cross the portal will kill you in agonizing pain.

I'm afraid you're stuck with us until your nerves are healed enough to handle a full personal reserve. And you will have to choose between the fuzziness of painkillers and being in pain all day. Not a very pleasant prognosis, but all I can offer you right now.'

It was easy to see that this was a blow to Hermes. I guess he expected to just go back home as soon as he could crawl through the portal, and be restored instantly.

Now he was facing weeks, even months of debilitating pain, and dependence on a bunch of mortals he had been trying to destroy.

I wondered if he felt humiliated as well, by his miserable failure. But soon I learned the reason for his extreme reaction to his diagnosis, as he talked to his son seriously and Lukas answered: 'You've had a tremendous shock, father, I'm sure you'll remember in a few days.

As for the other thing, there is no problem, father, we can offer you a place for that time, and I bet George is dying to have you staying with him. I told you I have forgiven you, and as long as you respect the life I have chosen my friends will accept you too, is it not?' this at us.

Paul said something reassuring in Greek, and I nodded. He was afraid to be left in the cold, helpless and in pain, with no way to support himself.

After hearing this disheartening news, Hermes was clearly exhausted, and Lukas lovingly helped him to lie down again.

Then he kissed him tenderly, and stroked his face, murmuring softly. But though his father clearly enjoyed his caresses intensely, there was still something bothering him, almost embarrassing him. Lukas bent over him and Hermes whispered something in his ear.

Lukas nodded and said: 'I understand, I'll ask Melissa, she was with me, she might know. Well that is too bad then, father, she knows how old you are, do you want an answer or not?'

He got up, led me away from the group and said: 'My father is afraid that if he is stuck here for too long, without godhood and totally without magic, he will start to age a lot.

Could you identify those other sources of power? Maybe they can provide enough power to keep him good-looking?'

I was proud to be able to tell him: 'I think I did, the blue was his personal power of course, that will be available. And I think the red was from an obscure group of worshipers somewhere on this earth, probably in the bush bush in Greece, and I think the lighter red is the same power you thrive on, Lukas, the power of love.

Maybe that is your divine heritage, that you can use love as a source of power. But, he'd better talk it over with George, for he has way more experience with magic than you or I do.'

Lukas said, smiling broadly: 'I think he has designs on George, and doesn't want him to know how old he really is.'

I retorted: 'Hmpf, as if George didn't know that already. From the vanity of the gods, please deliver us.'

This caused Lukas to smother a laugh, and we went back to his father, where he told him: 'We think you will be fine, you have a tiny bit of magic power trickling in that your own body makes, and according to Melissa you even have a few worshipers left here.

And if you spread enough love around, you also seem to have the ability to derive magic power from the love of the people around you, the way I power my healing Gift.

Making love fuels me like nothing else. We'll check tomorrow, and if you want to be sure, you'll have to ask George here, he is the expert on magic in all its shapes and forms.

He may know how much power you need for what you want. Maybe you can use that English spell again, most people here do not speak Greek.'

Some muffled Greek, and then Lukas, softly, but clearly audible in my mind: 'Oh, come on father, he knows you're centuries old and he doesn't care. Just ask him, will you. Not now, tomorrow or the day after. Go to sleep now, we'll speak again in a few hours.'

And in George's lap and beneath Lukas' loving touch, Hermes fell asleep once more.

'What was that all about?' Paul asked, and Lukas said: 'Don't let him know I told you, but Melissa and I just don't know enough of magic to be sure: he's afraid he'll start ageing without magic power. He could be right, it is clear he is not a god anymore, not here.

It embarrassed him to have you know, George, he wants a piece of you. It'll do him good, for Melissa here tells me he can use love to generate magic power, just like me. She thinks it's my share of divinity.'

I saw Paul and George digest this, and they looked really impressed.

Paul asked: 'What more did you learn?' I replied: 'He skims power off nature, like a ley-line but smaller bits and totally automatically.

That is what you had to shield out, George, it was overloading his nerves and killing him bit by bit. Sleeping on a node may turn out to be dangerous for him, if his shield fails he may overload unconsciously.'

George took this in, nodded to let me know he'd heard well. I continued: 'And he still has some worshipers here I think, he had a bit of clean red power coming in, I guessed it was people willingly donating power to him. And light red power, which came from George as well, leaching straight into him, even after you built the shield. We'll have to check if that is enough to keep him handsome.'

Paul looked at me proudly, at both Lukas and me, actually. He said: 'You're so good at this, both of you. Finding out all that, understanding what it all means. Compared to you two we've just been power-plants.'

'And objects of lust,' Lukas added.

'Well, this object of lust needs to stretch his legs, and get some food, maybe help clear up the mess, or I'll be in trouble,' George said, 'can I tempt one of you to hold hands with a god, whilst I take some children to bed?'

I said: 'See if he wakes up first, if he does, I'll take your place for an hour or so, I can use a nap by now. I have a feeling this night is going to be a long one.

When you come back we should decide where he is going to stay the night, for we all need some sleep.'

And Lukas lifted his father carefully, so that George could move away from under him. As he was laid back on the chair, Hermes was clearly not comfortable, and I decided I'd take that nap, so Lukas lifted him again, and I sat down as a kind of pillow to rest on.

That satisfied him totally, and he quieted immediately. I laid my head against the chair, and asked for the boys to bring a blanket if they could find one. It was getting chilly.

It didn't take long for me to drop off as well, working magic had tired me, and it had been a weird day with a lot of emotions.

I woke up a tiny bit when someone, I think Paul, covered me with a blanket and kissed me softly on the forehead.

But it was clear that Hermes was not going to do anything for some time, so I guess they felt safe enough to leave me there with him.

When I woke up the next time, I felt him snuggled against me, and though his sleek shape against mine still gave me mixed feelings of attraction and smudginess, his hands rested nowhere they shouldn't, and all my skirts and panties were still exactly where they should be, and I knew now he did not send those dreams, so I ignored it and let myself drop off again.

It was dark when I woke up next, Hermes moaning and turning in pain beside me. I supposed the painkiller had been exhausted, and he needed another one. As soon as I saw a shape, I called out, and Lukas was with me in a second.

I said: 'He needs another painkiller, Lukas, can you get one? Or should we take him to a bed somewhere?'

He replied: 'I'd prefer to move him with a working painkiller, so I'll get that first.' And he was off in the dark. The moaning beside me increased in pitch and in frequency, so I held the suffering man closer and stroked him to let him know he was not alone in this. He clung to me, muttering in Greek, which of course I didn't understand, but by then Lukas was back already.

He reminded his father: 'Don't fight it, father, it won't work. This will.' And with his usual gentleness he helped him take the powder, then took my place behind him to support him until it started to work.

'I will arrange a bed for him as soon as he can be moved,' I said, 'but I want to speak to Tristan as well, about the corrupted node. It may be killing more children as we speak, it needs to be taken care of. I'll be back really soon.'

And I tucked both of them in in their own blanket, for there were two.

Tristan was still there, helping with the clean-up, with struck me as rather singular. Here was a council member of the largest city in the country, a nobleman with his own estate and a house in town, and he was helping to clean up the remains of our wedding party.

Still, he seemed to enjoy it, and that was his new main objective in life, learning how to enjoy himself. I walked up to him and said: 'Tristan, before you leave we need to discuss that corrupted node for a few minutes. Will you stick around long enough to do so?

For I need to arrange a bed for Lukas' dad first, it's getting cold and uncomfortable out there.' Tristan said: 'Sure, I promised Paul already I'd wait to discuss it, let me find him whilst you find the bed, and then we can talk after having moved Hermes. I think George is in the house.'

So I went into the house, having never been there before, and it seemed much larger and finer on the inside.

I was standing in a large hall with a imposing set of stairs leading up, and two halls on either side. It looked large enough to get lost in, so I asked the first servant I met where her master was.

She replied: 'He's putting young miss Bertha to bed, madam, she still likes to be tucked in even though she's already ten years old.

He'll be done soon, he never takes long. If you wait here, you'll be sure to meet him.'

I thanked her and waited a few moments, and to be sure, it wasn't long before George came into view, descending the stairs at a rapid pace.

'Melissa, are you waiting for me?' he asked. I said: 'I am, it's getting cold outside, and we need to get Hermes in a bed and under a roof.

Do you want to put him up or do you want us to take him with us?'

He looked at me seriously and said: 'I take it he is no danger to me and my family?'

I held his gaze and said: 'No George, he is in a pretty sorry state, if he tried to use magic he'd hurt himself more than anyone else. And he cannot even stand up to do physical harm.'

George now looked embarrassed and admitted: 'I want to make a fool of myself very much, he's so beautiful, I'd love to keep him here with me, we have plenty of spare rooms and Frances won't mind.

But you said something about it being dangerous for him to sleep on a node?'

I replied: 'It might be, his body gathers that kind of power all by itself, it's an unconscious process.

I think it's part of what makes him a god.

If he were to do that now, he would probably overload his nerves and suffer unimaginable pain, and become crippled or even comatose, he could very well die. But you can shield him from it, can't you?'

George nodded, and said: 'Let's ask Paul and Tristan, I'm not objective, and they know as much about magic among the two of them.'

And he led me outside, finding the place where Tristan and Paul were waiting for me as if he knew where they would be.

The four of us walked to where Lukas was with his father, and there we sat down in the dark. Hermes was awake and quite lucid, the painkiller was clearly active again, and he was leaning into his son with obvious joy.

I could clearly see a family resemblance between them, the shape of the face, the chin, but Lukas' mouth was much more pronounced and he had a different nose.

Compared to the surreal beauty of his father, Lukas looked almost commonplace, even ungainly, but to me he was the truly beautiful person of the two, I had such a great love for him, and to me he seemed to be shining from the inside.

George asked Hermes: 'You need a decent bed to rest in, do you want to go home with your son, or do you want to stay with me?'

Hermes of course looked not understanding, and George repeated the whole in Greek. Hermes then spoke, and from Lukas' answer I could guess what he had said: 'I don't mind, father, you can stay wherever you would like best.

I know George wants you to stay with him, and if you want to, we need to discuss something among these three mages, in English. So please bear with us.'

His father answered, and George said to Tristan and Paul: 'Melissa says he will unconsciously fill up his reserves from the node if we don't make sure we shield him from it.

Does that make it too dangerous for him to sleep here with me?'

With great confidence, Tristan stated: 'Not if we use all three traditions, like we did with the seal. He couldn't break that even with god-like powers.'

'I agree,' was Paul's answer. But that worried me, for he had to get some power in: 'He needs access to a little power, to keep his life-processes going. You can only stop the green stuff from coming in, he needs the red and the light red power.'

All three now turned towards Hermes and looked at him intently, and Tristan observed: 'Damned if she's not right, I can see it now, straight from Lukas to his father.

All right, George's shield seems to be working just fine, I'll emulate that exactly, and he could sit on that corrupted node and not feel a thing.'

And Paul said: 'I'm with you,' after which Lukas said to his father: 'Tristan, the large man, and Paul, the stunningly handsome one, are both mages in a different tradition from George, and they are going to put shields on you as well, to protect you from a source of power that is near.

And then you can stay with George if you want to. Of course I'll visit every day, and you can visit me when you're a bit better.'

Hermes nodded and said something, and Paul was the first to approach Hermes.

He had been keeping himself aloof from the god, and even in great pain, Lukas' father had noticed. When Paul approached, Hermes held out his hand to him, and when he accepted it, Paul was pulled into a loving embrace and Hermes spoke a lot of Greek to him.

And again I heard Paul's answer in my mind as clearly as if it was Lukas speaking: 'I do love Lukas a lot, and I'm glad you seem to be seeing eye-to-eye again.'

After that greeting, Paul shaped energy into a shield and guided it around Hermes, then shrank it as George had done. It didn't look any different.

Then it was Tristan's turn, and as Tristan did not speak Greek, Lukas introduced him: 'This is Tristan, he practices a kind of magic unknown to your world.

It's highly formalized, so he'll be chanting before he does anything.'

And indeed, Tristan made a few very grand movements over Hermes, then started to chant in a monotone, deep voice. The sound vibrated in my ears, and I could feel the power it raised quite clearly.

Then he also formed a shield and draped it about Hermes, shrinking it until it fit. I noticed his shield was purple, not blue. I'd ask Paul about that later.

Magics done, Tristan picked up Hermes easily by himself, and carried him into the house, up the stairs, and into the room George had designated for him.

There was a comfortable four-poster bed in the room, and it was very clear that lying in a soft, warm bed was one of the things Hermes needed very much right now.

Lukas kissed his father, and stroked his hair, and said: 'Father, we're leaving now, we need our sleep for we have work to do tomorrow, but I will visit. George will stay with you. Good night!'

Paul and me would have gone with Lukas without any formalities, but Hermes very obviously wanted to say good night to us too, so Paul gave him a hug and a few kind words in Greek. He held out his arms to me, which disturbed me a bit, for a part of me wanted to be in those arms really badly, and I didn't want to indulge that part too much.

But I didn't want to hurt him by refusing either, so I embraced the beautiful god and tried not to smell his tempting scent. Hermes seemed to need love as much as Lukas did, I gathered that George might be in for an interesting night, and I was suddenly very happy he was not going home with us.

We left the room, leaving George behind, and we looked for Frances and thanked her for a lovely party and a lovely night.

She was especially nice to Lukas, realizing this must have been very hard on him. She promised him she would do whatever was needed for his father, and he assured her there was no danger from him.

Then we sat in the back garden for few more minutes, to talk over the corrupted node. I explained what I had seen, and Tristan agreed that breaking it might be the best option. We made an appointment for the next day, to see what we could do.

It needed to be done soon, for my account of the phosphorescent stuff still oozing out worried him. He said: 'Melissa, I cannot believe you are involved in magic for less than half a year. You see so much, and interpret everything you see so aptly.'

I was flattered by his compliments of course, and Paul said: 'Could it be because she was an engineer before she even got into magic? I mean, magic seems to be as illogical as one can imagine, but under the surface it obeys all the rules of nature just like everything else.'

Tristan said: 'That could very well be part of it, but I also think it's the natural way in which you guardians practice magic. All the ritual involved in my kind of magic, and the differences in status between master and apprentice would have hindered these two talents.

Though of course some discipline is needed always to prevent accidents and misuse of power, they seem to have developed really well just doing the things they're good at.

My compliments to all of you. I will see you tomorrow, in the wasteland, hopefully soon to be a wasteland no more. I'm staying with Ilsa tonight, so no lonely bed for me!' And with that he was off, back into the house.


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

And then we said goodbye to Jonathan, who had stayed up just to be able to say goodbye to us, since he was leaving for his parents' house tomorrow morning.

We hugged, and we kissed, and I entreated him not to forget us.

He replied: 'I'm glad to be going home, but I'll be even gladder to return here, to be able to share what I see of the world that my parents and siblings cannot.'

And he hugged Lukas and Paul as well, then went to bed quickly, for it would be early days for him tomorrow.

Paul had fetched the elven statues to take them home with us, but they refused to come, speaking their mind very clearly to all three of us: 'You have to leave us here, somewhere in the living-room, so we can see what is going on with your pet-god. Who knows what he's up to, and George is totally infatuated, we won't get a sensible word out of him.'

They did have a point there, though Lukas sputtered: 'My father isn't going to do anything, you know that as well as I do, he's not up to any mischief.'

The voice in our minds said: 'Before you shielded us out, we caught some very interesting memories from the both of you, of your first days here Lukas. You were up to plenty of mischief, and your dad has the same meagre resources to heal himself with all his other power-sources cut off.'

Paul looked scandalized: 'You just want to spy on some hot love-making!'

Lukas and I looked at each other, and backed down: 'Well, maybe it is wise to know what is going on, there can be little harm in it. You will give us a detailed report, won't you?'

The statue grinned, and said: 'I knew you'd see it our way eventually. So we have a deal?' This scandalized Paul even more, and he exclaimed: 'You two are even worse than them, spying on your good friend and your father.'

Lukas defended himself: 'They're both really old and experienced, who knows what we might learn. And Paul, don't be a hypocrite, I remember you hanging on my lips when I told the two of you how I chased George and caught him. You loved it!'

'All right, you are right, I want to know too, we'll leave them in the living-room,' Paul admitted. And he went back into the house and left the silver statues on the hearth together. They looked nice, they matched the interior perfectly. Then we were ready to leave.

George had arranged for us to be taken home with the carriage, and it was nice not to have to walk back, though I wouldn't have minded to cycle back.

I felt a bit guilty to spy on him and Hermes, after all he had done for us, but those cheeky little statues had had enough fun out of us. Someone else could entertain them for a while.

And who knew, Hermes might be up to something after all, and it would indeed be foolish to rely on George, as infatuated as he was.

It felt like ages since we had been home, but of course that wasn't true, we had left this morning and not even that early.

I didn't feel at all like new bride, about to spend her wedding night with her new husband, but of course that was not only due to living with two men for months before getting married, but also to the events of the day. The guys were even less aware of the value that was usually attached to the occasion, as Paul proved when he said to Lukas:

'Let's try to get some work done tomorrow morning after your run, and you can sit with your father the whole afternoon and evening if you like.'

Which Lukas agreed to: 'I'm really looking forward to working on our projects, we have been too busy with other things. If my father stayed here, I could just work all day.'

This remark caused me to stop musing about wedding-nights instantly: 'Lukas, think! What did you do when you weren't feeling well?' Lukas' face became really sweet and soft with the memory: 'We made love a lot, I still think of that sometimes.'

He was so cute, looking like that, and I said: 'I do too, love, but think, we made love a lot, right? So who'd your father make love to if he were staying here, not feeling well?'

Lukas' face fell, as he realized what might have happened, and he said: 'I'm sorry Melissa, I didn't think of that. I didn't think at all.'

I took his face in both my hands and kissed it, saying: 'I know, love, I only thought of it at the very last minute, when the guys put those shields on him.

I remember those first days, too. You were very sweet, and you still are, and I'm eager to give you all the love you need, but I'm not sharing out to your family, and especially not to your sleek, slick daddy.'

Now Paul locked us both up in his arms, and observed with a certain thrill of horror: 'I didn't think of it either. I would have welcomed him to my house with open arms, but however much I love you, Lukas, I'm not going to make love to your father. No matter how sorry I feel for him, he is indeed very sleek and very slick. No, he's better off with George, who actually likes men.'

He kissed both of us, and asked: 'Do you want to turn in, or do we reflect a little, see if we can get a grip on our new reality?'

'The latter,' Lukas said, 'if I go to bed now, I'll have nightmares. We learned a lot today, didn't we?' 'We did,' Paul observed, 'even about my own mother and father. They mean well but they just don't know how to relate to someone unlike themselves. I blamed them for that, but now I see I could have tried a little harder myself, instead of pulling back more and more and finding people I could relate to.'

I said: 'That is how you've grown, next time we see them you can try it out. We'll visit and work on it, whilst Lukas seduces your sister. Anything else?'

'Yes, I don't feel as if I've married just you today, ' Paul said, 'I feel as if we all married each other, and your dad accepted that so easily. What did you learn, Lukas?'

Lukas told us: 'I'm clearly the kind of person who finds his courage in the face of danger. I was so scared, and when my greatest fear came to pass, it just fell away from me and I could act. And you Melissa?'

'I need to really look at things more, for they keep revealing layer upon layer of information. We are a great team, aren't we? Though Paul could likely be more than just a power plant and an anchor, we need to find his role in the whole. He's the master after all. And my sisters are nicer than I thought, and I find your father way too attractive, Lukas. I'm afraid that if he shows an interest in me, I'll not be able to resist the temptation. I don't like that about myself.'

Strangely enough, Paul and Lukas were not shocked to hear me admit to that.

At my questioning look, Paul explained: 'He's spent centuries making himself as attractive as he could to women, and you're twenty years old and just discovering love.

He looks like someone you love, and he smells like someone you love, and you dreamt of him, and if anyone could best him at making him more attractive still, it's those filthy minded elves. They know exactly what you like.

I'm not surprised, no. But I'm glad he's not staying here all the same.'

'Yes,' said Lukas, 'and don't forget, he was helpless and suffering, and you've always had a tender streak in you. That's why we love you so much, you're incredibly strong, but there is this amazingly tender girl hidden inside that strong woman.'

'So now we've explained that it is completely normal for you to feel attracted to Hermes,' Paul asked, 'what do you want us to do? Keep him away from you, give you our blessing to have a go at him, nothing at all, let you sort it out for yourself? I'm sure you can.'

'I can challenge him to a duel,' Lukas said, 'if I'm quick I may have a chance.'

I felt a huge relief having confessed this, especially to myself, and I knew exactly what to do: 'I'll pretend nothing is wrong, and you two keep a close eye on me.'

We shook hands on it, and stayed up for another hour, talking about everything that happened, our families, how to improve our magic-skills, the blessing of having bicycles.

The next morning I woke up with Lukas preparing to go for his run. I asked him: 'Will you drop by the manor house to see how he's doing?'

Lukas replied: 'I was planning to, they're early risers. I'll be back soon anyhow, I'm really looking forward to working on our projects.' I spread my arms for a hug, and he let himself fall on top of me and he hugged me intensely. I got a few kisses as well.

'And now I'm off, you're turning me on, it'll be an hour later if we're not careful.' He pushed himself up and left quickly, I heard him running down the stairs, and then the front door slammed shut. I snuggled close to Paul and let myself drift back to sleep.

After a pretty relaxed morning with a bit of lazy loving, Paul and I got dressed just as the front door shut on Lukas.

Paul observed: 'Good, there is something about the new greenhouse I wanted to discuss with you, and now Lukas can have his say as well. Let's get ourselves some coffee!'

Going downstairs we met Lukas on the beautifully wrought landing, and he seemed in excellent spirits, his father must have lived through the night well.

'My father was much better,' Lukas said cheekily, 'I bet those statues will have quite a story to tell! And I have news from your parents, Paul, and Jonathan went to his own parents this morning.

I saw him off. But first I want to hug both of you.'

And he did, one by one, starting with Paul, since 'he'd already hugged me today.' As we sat at the kitchen table for our coffee and breakfast, Lukas skipped the coffee but ate like an athlete.

'Tell us about it,' Paul said, 'Hermes first, I need coffee before I hear from my parents.'

And Lukas started his account: 'When I arrived, I had already had my run, and Jonathan was just leaving so I waved. Then I went to the house and was shown in to the guest-room where my father was staying.

George and him were in bed together, like lovers after an intimate night I may add, and they both welcomed me with a hug. My father looked much better, in less pain especially, and he had more colour, but he couldn't leave the bed yet, he was still weak.

He did not look a bit older, so that's probably fine as it is. He was still on painkillers. I promised we'd check him out this afternoon,' looking at me he paused, 'if that is all right by you, Melissa, I forgot about, well, what you told us last night.

I can make do with George of course, but I'd rather not take power from him as long as he's involved with my father. That feels awkward.'

He was turning into a Victorian, I knew it. Convinced as I was of my own control over my feelings, I said: 'No, it's fine. Both of you will be there with me after all. I can't start avoiding him, that'd give him power over me, and besides, he is my father-in-law in a certain way, so I have to be respectful to him.'

The guys acknowledged this, and they had as much confidence in me as I did myself, and besides, Hermes would have someone else to think about with George so close.

'So what did Paul's parents want?' I asked, seeing that Paul wasn't going to.

'Right,' Lukas said, 'of course I didn't speak to them myself, they went back home yesterday, this is something Frances told me. She had given them a tour of her greenhouse and told them about the one we were going to build for her, and she showed them the plans Melissa had drawn up. And they loved it, they want one just like it, and they want the three of us to build it.

Frances was amazed, she'd not expected them to ever accept your love for crafting, and now they want you to do it in their formal garden.'

I could see that this affected Paul as much as it had surprised Frances. He sat staring at Lukas for a moment, then he turned towards me and observed: 'Remind me not to let your dad try to convince me of anything, for if he has gotten my parents to accept my craft, he must be the best talker ever. But that does bring me to the subject I wanted to discuss with you: the greenhouse.

I have cast large iron parts in my own workshop, my own stairs in fact, but it is a tight fit, and with the two of us using it now even more so, and with so many other commissions and the demand for bicycles rising as well, I'd prefer to make only the ornamentation ourselves.

My proposal is, to commission the iron frame of the glasshouse to Mr Jones. I like him, I trust him, and he can probably produce them faster and cheaper than we can ourselves. If we don't commission, building a second glasshouse will be out of the question, especially if we want the boiler to be worth looking at as well as able to heat the whole thing.'

That was a radical idea, commissioning ourselves, but it made total sense.

Paul's craft was way too refined to waste time on casting large iron pieces, Mr Jones had better resources and cheaper labour, his cast iron pieces would be delivered more quickly and at a much more reasonable price.

'I'm for,' I said, and Lukas said: 'Me too.'

'You'll be inspecting a site again, if we commission,' Paul warned me, but as I'd have to inspect Lukas and him as well if they were to do it, there was little difference to me.

'I'd rather you both spend your time on what you are really good at, like to do, and which is worth your while,' I said.

And that was that, we'd commission the iron from to Mr Jones, provided he was interested in making an offer for the job.

After breakfast we went to the workshop, where Lukas started work immediately, and Paul explained several ideas of his, which he wanted me to contemplate on and make concrete for him. I made notes of his explanation and started to sketch the first idea, asking questions whenever I got stuck or was in doubt.

It was much more challenging than inspecting, I had to use all the theoretical knowledge I had gained during my studies, to give Paul's ideas a thorough reality-check if they were viable, and if so, to make a few sketches and mentally test those against their intended purpose.

If they stood the test, I'd make a precise drawing, which we would try to write off together.

If the drawing withstood the test, Paul would make a prototype that we could test in practice. This method would cost me a great deal of time and effort, but it would save him more, for so far he had always started out with the prototype, not able to theorize as I could, discarding at least nine out of ten of his ideas.

I would try to reduce that number to one viable prototype against two failures. It was an immense task, and I loved it. I had never been tried like this, not even in my final year of my studies, and I relished the challenge.

It is not hard to imagine, I think, that we had a really enjoyable morning, even though we were all hard at work. For me it was really special to be an active partner in the workshop, I was used to come here as a spectator only, and now I had my own role to fulfil I loved it.

We were all together, we were all busy, and if we needed help or a second opinion there was someone at hand.

I could imagine Lukas feeling relieved, having faced his father first, and having seen him on the mend and busy with someone else later. And Paul was just thrilled, talking about his ideas, cutting corners off his process of development and, I hoped, having married the woman he loved and secured her future.

Because it was my first day, I allowed myself to ask Paul anything I didn't understand or wasn't sure of. In a few weeks this would be routine, but now it was still new and I wanted to know exactly what he expected of me.

We drank tea only once, and when it was time for lunch there was a knock on the door. Lukas stopped work for a second to open it, and he came back in followed by Tristan, who had a lovely woven basket hanging from his large hand.

'We have a visitor,' Lukas announced, and Tristan said: 'I brought lunch with me, hope you haven't had any yet.'

Delicious smells were coming from that basket, and we were all hungry by now, but Paul and Lukas wanted to finish one tiny detail on the pump they were working on, so I showed Tristan the sketches I had made today of Paul's ideas.

I had proof that two of them would not work, even before the sketching-stage, but to explain the physics the sketches would be handy.

Two had seemed viable until I sketched them and started to calculate for the real drawings.

And another four would become drawings after a lot more calculations from me, and then we'd all try to find fault with the drawings.

Tristan seemed to find the ideas almost funny, but I thought some of them had real potential to make life easier for a lot of people. I guess having staff for all household tasks would make a machine that would do the laundry seem superfluous, but I sure saw its use.

By now the guys were ready and we went upstairs for a lunch with food that came out of the kitchen of a noble house.

It was the best food I ever had eaten, and even Paul and Lukas seemed impressed, though they must have been used to quality cooking in their youths.

After dinner we went to the wasteland, in Tristan's carriage, for he was not supposed to walk the streets by himself, being a council member.

He also had quite an arsenal of stuff with him, too much to carry easily, apparently he needed all that to perform magic and I wondered how he would be able to use that in full sight of passers-by. Since the evil mage had been removed, people had started using the road beside the wasteland again, clearly mundane people had felt his influence to some extent, or maybe it had been the lost children who had frightened them away.

The little girl who had wandered over and had been left there had never been claimed. She had gone with Louise to the orphanage where Louise would be taught to become a nurse. Tristan gave us regular updates on Louise and the girl, who had had no trauma, but who had remembered her name only when Lukas found it in her memories.

She had just been too young when she arrived, and no-one among the children had a name, so they never asked her and she had forgotten. Her full name was Priscilla, but everyone called her Prissy now, and we guessed she had been around three years old when she arrived making her around four now.

Of course we were there in a moment, and we climbed over the rubble again and soon reached the sickening node.

We all shielded, and Tristan started to unpack some of the stuff he had brought with him. There were stones engraved with pentagrams, and there was salt. Several bottles of herbs, and a few intricate silver objects. Paul apparently knew what they were all for, for he helped Tristan put them in their rightful places around the spot where the stone was buried.

I checked the ley-line if there was enough charge, and it was fine, I supposed it must be a different one from the one on the estate, that George had emptied yesterday to save Hermes' life. I didn't take hold of it though, I wanted to start out using my own power, to build up some magic stamina of my own, instead of using power from an outside source.

Soon, the men were ready, and Tristan gave instructions, which Paul listened to with as much interest as Lukas and I did. The wards, for that was what the silver objects and the stones were, would first be activated, by Tristan and Paul, sharing the cost and the awareness of someone passing one of the wards among the two of them.

Then I would lead all of us to the stone that was the node, unless Lukas was afraid to get sick from the negative energy it was stuffed with. In that case, he'd better stay back as anchor. Once there, Paul and Tristan would keep the stone from exploding, whilst I would try to enlarge the natural cracks in it, to let the corrupted energy out.

One set of wards would warn us if someone approached, the other wards would ensure that the power would escape towards the ley-line, or down into the ground, where its taint would be removed by exposure to the soil, and not towards the surface or worse, to the river.

Lukas decided to shield extra tightly against the emotions still clinging to the stolen magic, and to join us in our exploration.

Tristan and Paul sat opposite one another and started to hum in a very low monotone voice. I immediately felt the power around us, as it shifted out to the wards. Soon, there were two lines of defence around the site, one from the silver and one from the stones. I could follow the one down into the ground for almost two yards, the other was on the surface, circling the node at a distance of fifteen yards. Both were purple, reminding me I had forgotten to ask why Tristan's power was purple instead of blue.

It would have to wait, just like Lukas' age: suddenly I remembered his father had mentioned he was fifty, more than twice our age, which would mean he was older than Tristan and even older than George, probably.

Why would he look and behave like a twenty-year-old then?

But of course I had enough training, dating back to my years as a student, to empty my mind of irrelevant subjects, and I did so now, thinking only of the magics. I reached out for Paul and Lukas, connecting easily, and had some hesitation connecting with Tristan, fearing inappropriate intimacy, but we weren't going to share power after all, so I connected to him as well.

Then I activated my sight and directed it into the soil, towards the basalt column. It was still whole, still pulsating with sickly red power.

I could feel Lukas' revulsion, and then I felt him lock it down. Good, he was getting the hang of this as well as I had, though of course he perceived emotions much stronger than I, as I saw the inner structures clearer. I led the party into the stone, studying the cracks one by one, until the mages had an idea of the situation and we were ready to act.

I thought of how a block of basalt would weather in nature, the cracks would fill up with water, then freeze, shattering the block in a matter of thousands of years.

Or differences in temperature would cause it to enlarge and shrink again minutely, enlarging the cracks. Chemicals from the soil could dissolve minerals inside the rock, weakening the structure. I could also imagine a crowbar or wedge inserted in the crack, using leverage to widen it.

I had never consciously tried to influence anything yet, I had always just observed structures, which made me unsure what to do.

Also, the realization that everything I could think of would take thousands of years in a natural situation impressed my own inexperience on me. But my companions were much more experienced than I, and they had observed the situation through my eyes.

Paul, as my teacher, suggested I try all of them, see which one worked best, so I started with water, which was already there. I wanted to freeze it, and Paul suggested I shape a grid like a metal out of the components of the water.

The components moved fast, so it wasn't easy, but I managed, with my own energy, which was running out fast now.

Paul fed me some of his, and with it I stopped the internal movement of the water in the rock. I could see a grid forming, and the water did indeed expand, putting pressure on the rock. I could see the cracks widen, and more corrupted power leaked out.

But then the water ran out, I had frozen all of it, and the stone was still whole, so I decided to warm the stone, quite suddenly, expanding it with a bit of a shock. Seeing the dense grid of the stone, I tried to get the parts to move ever faster, but that was just too difficult for me, I lacked the power, even with Paul's help, so he took over.

As a smith, he did not decide to work with nature, but he applied chemicals. More water was flowing into the cracks by now, and with the acids that are naturally present in the water and in the organic part of the soil, he transformed it into an etching fluid, eating away at the stone at a steady pace.

Then he did what I had tried, move the grid of the stone faster until the stone heated up and the weakened parts around the cracks started to crack as well. More sickly red power rushed out, draining away in the soil, but most of the power was still left in the stone, and though the stone was damaged, it was by no means close to being destroyed.

Now Paul went for the raw magic again, shaping it into a wedges that he rammed into the widened cracks one by one. When all cracks had a wedge of power in them, he applied one burst of power to all of them, and the cracks widened even more.

I could feel his determination to break the stone, it was primed to contain power and it had to be broken, or it would call other black mages to it by its nature. But this was a tough job, and Paul could only see his actions through me, which tired him a lot, so he had to take a breather.

Now Tristan asked politely if he could have a try, and of course we were happy to let him have a go, eager to see some show of force from him.

But it was clear our friend had a totally different point of view, for he did not use nature's laws, nor the tools of the craftsman. He used subtlety, reflecting his position in life, always having to connect people and seeing every side of everything.

With a ritual formula repeated over and over, he applied a purple shield around the entire block of stone, shutting it off totally from the rest of the soil and from us.

I could still see into it, and through me Tristan could see what he was doing, though it was not clear to us what he did. It seemed he could handle the filthy red energy without letting it touch him, for the sickly red stuff started to gather around the cracks, and it started to whirl a little.

When all the cracks had the surrounding stolen power whirling around them, and with a large tornado of red power inside the block of stone starting to come to life, he pulled us all outside his purple shield, and told us to stay clear and wait.

Afraid of the corrupted stuff as he didn't seem to be, I came back into the now unsure whether we would be safe sitting nearly on top of the block. But Tristan just looked at us mysteriously, hugely enjoying himself.

We talked about the plans the council had for the site for half an hour, and then he told us it should be ready, so we joined up again, and they followed me inside, where the purple shield was still intact. With a word of command, Tristan dismissed his shield, and inside, there was nothing but soil and a patch of black sand.

After we had seen this, Tristan took us back into the now immediately, and explained: 'You applied natural processes, and Paul applied his craft, and both worked, but because the stone was so hard, it would have taken hours to wear it down that way.

So I decided to apply some time to the process: I protected us from the spell, and created pockets inside the stone where time went a hundred times faster than normal. I used the corrupted power to fuel the process, using it up and cleaning it without having to touch the filthy stuff.

That is the advantage of ritual, you don't have to wrestle the power, or lead it through your own body. With the chemicals still present and the damage you and Paul had already done, half an hour was enough to totally weather the stone to the sand it would have become after thousands of years of exposure.

No-one will ever claim that stone again, and most of the power is used up, the memories dissipated, no longer able to taint anything.'

Now he set to work to remove the wards, and we collected all the stones and the silver objects, returning them to Tristan's bag of components.

We walked back to the carriage, Lukas feeling a lot better with the disappearance of the polluted magic, me dreadfully worn with the new magic experience, and Paul in a bit of doubt, it seemed. I could imagine him being glad Tristan was true to his word, clearing up the magical taint if not single-handedly, certainly more hands-on than one would expect from a council-member.

On the other hand, Paul was used to being the prodigy of his family, magic had come very easily to him.

Confronted with the subtlety of a true adept he must have felt lacking quite a bit of skill, which might just motivate him to spend more time on honing his own magic-skills.

'That was an impressive piece of work, Tristan,' Paul observed, 'you're really subtle.'

Tristan answered soberly: 'Comes with the territory, I'm always trying to find a way around something or someone, or I'd insult a lord, or disrespect a minister, or give my game away to the witch hunters.

Do not be mistaken that they will not take down a noble, for they will if they can. I need a lot of ritual to perform magic, and though it makes my discipline powerful, it also makes it vulnerable to discovery.

I'd be very grateful for a visit to your father Melissa, to get one of those shields, and I am certain I can do something for them in return, make it safer for his circle to convene.'

I replied: 'Be sure to mention this to my dad, he may be very interested, they suffer a lot from persecution.'

Tristan said: 'I mean to involve him in this project as well, he can be a perfect bridge between the classes, even Paul's parents take him seriously and still he remains one of the people.

'In my world, you could practice magic openly and to your heart's content,' Lukas said, 'everybody does it. Which is why I felt kind of useless there.'

'Think of what introducing steam would do to the people of your country, Lukas,' Paul observed. Lukas looked at him slyly, and said: 'I am, and I like it.

Maybe we should go there some day, so we can practice our magic openly until we've reached the level we want to, and bring some technology to them.'

Tristan said: 'If your father were reasonable enough that you could go back whenever you pleased, Lukas, this would be a good thing for the three of you. Paul, I do think you lack only six months of regular magic use to make adept status, you have great knowledge and great power.'

Working magic in a group was probably new to Paul, and I guessed it motivated him a lot, for he really seemed to enjoy teaching us, but he never really practised magic unless it was strictly necessary, like during the raid.

And there he had not been subtle at all, just flinging power at anything that needed to be solved. I did think a year of practising magic would do him good, but Paul thought differently: 'I enjoyed working magic with you, Tristan, and I admire your dedication to the arts, but to me it is a duty and a burden, and I'm stuck in this part of the city as guardian, so I will never be able to travel and learn different ways to use my magic.

I'll stick to my other art, and just use magic to protect the ones I am responsible for whenever it is needed.'

That sounded very despondent, and I hoped this negativity was caused by being in contact with the corrupted node for some time.

Still, I felt drawn to him, to hold his hand and offer him my support. Putting an arm around him and kissing him on his cheek, I managed to get a smile from him, and a loving kiss in return. I longed to ask him about his disappointed speech just now, was it the burden of guardianship that aged Paul nearly a decade beyond his true number of years?

I wanted to know, but I had too often spoken to him in haste, hurting him with my words, so I kept my question to myself.

But of course I had a partner in crime, and Lukas did not hesitate to ask what had been on my lips: 'Does it burden you so much, Paul, this guardianship, this responsibility, that it adds years to your apparel when you are awake? When you sleep you look as young as Melissa, and she tells me you are of an age with her, yet when you awake the years ride you again like an unwilling steed.'

Paul bent his head and replied: 'Both of you mentioned that before, that I look my true age when I sleep, but I only know this face I wear by day, and it does indeed look aged beyond my years because of the huge responsibility I bear.'

Now I dared speak: 'If I wasn't afraid he'd steal your soul, I'd ask Jonas to take one of his photographs of you, so you could see your younger self. He is so endearing. Your sleeping you, not Jonas, though he is a nice guy.'

This was all confusing Tristan greatly, and as we all climbed into the carriage he said: 'How old are you then, Paul?'

Paul smiled, not triumphantly, but rather a bit sadly, and said: 'I was twenty-one last February.' Tristan was absolutely shocked, and said: 'And you have been a guardian since?'

'My twenty-first birthday,' replied Paul. 'And when did you reach master status?' Tristan enquired further.

'At sixteen,' Paul replied, 'I started preparing for my guardianship two years after that, and never had the time to study for my testing, though of course my parents wanted me to dedicate my life to magic, I wanted to be independent, and I wanted to be a crafter. I think they have never forgiven me for not becoming the youngest adept in the guardian tradition.'

Now, Tristan laid a hand on Paul's shoulder, and asked: 'Who appointed you guardian?'

He replied: 'Our council did, they also appointed Melissa to me as apprentice.'

Shaking his head, Tristan observed: 'Someone wants you to burn out or die young, putting you under so much pressure. You are barely of age, yet you look and most importantly, you sound like my age.

You should be out there, getting to know the world, being young, not bearing a responsibility suitable for a mature man. I thought you my age and young for the job of guardian.

Someone is doing you a really bad turn, and I think they need to be corrected. I reached adept status at twenty five, you're years ahead of me, but though you seem happy now, the cost may be too high. Do you mind if I have a word about this with George?'

Paul replied: 'George always opposed my appointment, but he had no say in the council since he's not of our tradition.

Besides, at the time we didn't have a lot of contact, so he didn't dare interfere.'

Now Tristan nodded comprehendingly: 'Ilsa told me about your estrangement, a sad business, I'm glad you managed to resolve it. A man can stand alone for only so long, it is not healthy, and for a boy it is even worse.'

It seemed like something had fallen into place for Tristan, knowing Paul was so young, he explained: 'I thought it was strange, you mingling so well with those young people, I thought they lacked respect towards you, but now I understand: you grew up together, you're one of them, whenever you can afford to be.'

To save Paul from further attention for his plight, I thought the three of us had to talk about that in private, I asked Lukas: 'And since we're talking about age, Lukas, did I hear your father mention you were fifty years old? You seem my age, both in appearance and in character.'

By now we had reached the manor house and as we left the carriage Lukas answered cheerily: 'You heard right, I didn't tell you because I felt kind of ashamed, both of you so driven and I still as flighty as when I really was twenty.

Had you asked me directly, I would have told you of course, for I am indeed fifty years old already. I guess my heritage makes me long-lived and gives me a youthful appearance. For my childish behaviour I have no excuse, it's the way I have been for many, many years. Sometimes I feel like I'm finally starting to grow up a little, thanks to you two.'

Saying this, he looked at us with a mixture of apology and impudence which was so totally the Lukas I had loved instantly, I melted on the spot. He was so sweet, even without excuse for being like that I just had to love him for it.

I reached out for him, only to find my gesture mirrored in Paul, and with a cry of feeling Lukas literally threw himself in our arms.

We held him together, and kissed him, and I smelled his musky scent with more than a little longing for his touch on my body. I was still very much in love with him, and knowing his real age didn't matter one bit.

He'd probably outlive us, still looking exactly like that, and behaving exactly like that. It didn't matter to me, I thought he was perfect as he was, and I wanted to make love to him many, many times more.

Now he looked at me as if he had shared that incredible feeling of love from me, which of course was probably true, and for one moment, the look in his eye took my breath away as Paul's was wont to do, and he touched my face, not as the young man I knew and loved, but as a man with a life filled with experience already behind him.

I felt an incredible love from him as well, much deeper than I'd expected, and then he was back to the familiar Lukas, the charming, cheerful young man.

I knew Paul had seen the older Lukas as well, and he also seemed deeply touched, but nonetheless a little relieved to have the innocent boy back. We hugged some more, and I tried to switch off the lust stealing over me, and managed partly. I felt embarrassed to ask for sex when in company, actually, I had never had to ask for sex yet, I got plenty offered to me, so I repressed the feeling, and never once remembered I was going to see Hermes next.

A big blunder, going in his presence with barely controlled heat, and a blunder which I would pay for with many sleepless nights to come.


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

After getting such a profound insight in Paul's character, I was glad to have a few minutes to contemplate what I had heard, sitting quietly whilst Frances had the coffee served, as always with a tempting treat served alongside it.

Could it really be true, that Paul was oppressed by his responsibility all the time? He didn't seem to be really busy with his guardianship, there was no daily administration attached for instance, and since the matter of the faeries had been resolved to the point where Frances and George had taken over, I hadn't heard or seen him involved in any magic besides my daily lessons and Jonathan's. Since Lukas' near-accident during the healing of Lucy, he had acted as anchor and power plant, something I had commented on before, somehow I had already noticed he didn't seem to get a lot of satisfaction from performing magic.

Did Lukas feel Paul should exercise his magic more often? Knowing now that Lukas was more than twice our age, I couldn't help remembering some of his remarks as containing a lot more common sense than I'd given them credit for at that time, so I guessed his age did matter after all.

But though I was still planning not to let it affect the way I looked at him, if it made me take him more seriously that was only a bonus, wasn't it?

Since it was a lovely day, I was not surprised to see George and Hermes join us in the garden after some time, George preparing the long chair with utmost care and carrying Hermes without a lot of strain, the fallen god being not that much larger or heavier than Lukas.

I found myself watching him, trying to discern his condition today, he seemed a lot better, with more colour, and apparently in a lot less pain.

He was as sleek and as beautiful as ever, and his attachment to George seemed unabated, even though they had clearly indulged in it tonight.

I remembered how quickly Lukas had improved in health after making love, though I couldn't imagine the person we had left in the guest-room last night being able to have active sex.

That was a mistake, for thinking of the act of making love brought my own heat to the forefront of my mind again, and now I was looking for more than just signs of health in Hermes.

I wondered how it would feel to touch straight short hair instead of longish curls, and if his chiselled chest would feel the same as muscle hardened by forging and hammering.

But there were ways of ruling my body, and I employed distraction first, asking Frances how Jonathan had taken leave this morning: 'Was he in good spirits, looking forward to seeing his parents again?'

Nodding, Frances answered: 'Yes, he was very happy to go home for some time, show his parents he was all right after all the rumours that were going around about what had happened in the factory. I do think we will see him back here soon, though, he really loved being with the three of you.'

I was happy to hear that, for I liked him a lot and wanted to stay in touch with him for his personality, but I also still thought he needed guidance on the subject of magic, and a higher purpose in life.

With what he had been through, and what he had accomplished, a quiet life would bore him sooner rather than later, and he had such resourcefulness and such charisma he was in real danger of starting on the wrong path in life, just out of curiosity.

Better he dance his way to a thrill going to a rave with Lukas, than try out exciting bits of magic from forbidden books.

I told Frances: 'I'm glad about that, and I hope he does return.'

She said: 'He will. How did you fare with the corrupted node, did you manage to destroy it?'

I replied: 'It was destroyed, but not by me. Tristan gave all of us, including Paul, a marked lesson in magic.

After I had given up, Paul tried his best, and Tristan combined our methods with the tainted power and had the basalt reduced to black sand in half an hour. I was impressed.'

'And so was I,' sounded Tristan's voice from behind me. Frances and I both looked at him, and he continued: 'Your logical minds handed me the solution on a silver platter, all I had left to do was speed up the processes you two had started.'

Always the diplomat, our Tristan, and he wasn't done yet: 'Without your talent to see inside things and visualise them to others, destroying that stone would have been a lot harder, and less safe and accurate. The way the three of you operate in a group is amazing. You've been working magic for, half a year?'

Frances replied for me: 'More like three months, I think.'

'Then you are making incredible progress, I was still polishing wards three months into my apprenticeship. I like the way your mind works, Paul was right, you're still an engineer when you are using magic.

I want the school to work outside traditions, offering the students a bit of every form of magic we have a potential teacher for, so they know what they are about. Then they can decide in which discipline they want to find an apprenticeship, but they'll have an idea of what the other traditions do, which will hopefully give mutual understanding and cooperation,' Tristan was warming up now to his pet-project.

'I want to teach classes too, and I was hoping I might try them out on Lukas, you, Jonathan and even Paul. It would be such a great thing if he were to find some joy in practising magic, he is such a great teacher.'

Paul was talking to George and Hermes, together with Lukas, and he now called my name. I excused myself to Tristan and Frances, and went to my beloved, sat on his lap and asked: 'You wanted to speak to me?'

He looked at me fondly and embraced me, then said: 'Lukas wants to check on his father, and it seemed sensible to take you with him, you were there yesterday as well, so you can see the difference.'

I said to Lukas: 'I'm ready when you are,' and sotto voce to Paul: 'Kick me if I start to swoon.' Paul laughed merrily, he didn't think I was serious I'm afraid, and promised me: 'I'll kick you, don't worry. Love you!'

We gathered around the long chair, of course George was there, hovering over his charge, and Lukas was sitting on the chair with his father.

He had let go of every semblance of distrust or distance towards his father, he was a concerned son at the bed of his suffering parent.

As I approached the chair, Hermes reached out his arms to me, apparently he wanted me to hug him, and not seeing any way to get out of it, I kneeled beside the bed and let him embrace me.

His smooth torso against mine, together with his enticing scent, stirred the heat already in me, and then he nuzzled my neck as well, as if to take in the feel and the scent of my skin.

That was a weird way to greet one's daughter-in-law, and whilst one part of me was a bit put out by his familiarity, another part of me enjoyed it a lot.

He also had the nerve to run his hands through my hair, giving me a distinct thrill, and to say in a melodious baritone voice: 'My dear Melissa, you have the most gorgeous hair I've ever seen, it looks just like molten copper.'

It was just not fair! Paul should have kicked him, he was not playing by the rules, coming on to me like that.

But I didn't swoon, and managed to keep my voice totally neutral as I said: 'Thank you sir.' My body wanted to sit on him and ride whatever was hiding in his pants, but fortunately my mind was still stronger.

Paul now sat down next to me, and touched my bare skin soothingly, which directed my body's attention towards him, where I preferred it, so I took the time to kiss him and smell his familiar and exciting scent as well.

That helped, and now I was able to connect my mind to both Lukas and Paul, preparing to follow Lukas as he activated his talent and to feed him Paul's power.

There was plenty of that left, despite his efforts to destroy the fake node. Even if the ley-line had not been drained, I wouldn't want Hermes to see me tap it, I didn't trust him one bit, yet, with his velvet voice...wait a minute, he had been speaking English again!

Lukas had been at the point of touching his father, when he caught my observation, but he didn't seem to think much of it and soon afterwards he touched his father's chest and gave himself up to his talent.

It was clear straight away that Hermes was a lot better, his nerves were still inflamed, but decidedly less so than yesterday.

Lukas thought this was due to actual healing, but also to the total absence of the green power in his system. That stuff seemed to irritate the nerves a lot more than the red and the pink power. The pink power level in our patient was up a lot, proving to me that it was indeed generated by love. I wondered if I could look at Lukas' power-level by myself, it would be really interesting to see where his power came from.

Hermes' power was gently diffusing from the pockets, I guessed hard at work to heal the nerves, and some was probably keeping up his youthful appearance, as well as powering the English language-spell.

Amazing, he nearly died of reaction sickness yesterday, enduring agony from his overstrained nerves, and here his body was already using magic again as if it were coffee or bread. Being a god certainly had its advantages.

Still, any serious storage or use of power would probably still be really painful and damaging, and I supposed Lukas would want to keep him away from the node for at least a few weeks yet.

We had seen enough, so we went back into the now, and since he had not practised any real healing magic, Lukas wasn't as drained as usual.

Still he sat in my arms and let me stroke him, whilst Paul asked Hermes: 'Melissa noticed you were speaking English again, are you able to use spells already?'

Smiling cordially at me, he replied: 'Yes, I felt so much better this morning and I thought it would be such a tremendous help to be able to communicate with everyone here, that I asked George if it would be dangerous to use the power I had to activate this tiny spell.

He thought it wouldn't hurt to try, and it didn't. Could it be that the power of love spares the nerves?' Why did I get the feeling that he was speaking only to me?

It must be my attraction speaking, and that shouldn't be fed, so I ignored it and listened to Lukas telling his father: 'Your nerves are better, and you seem to have plenty of power to fuel the little magics you were worried about.

Somehow that power of love does indeed seem to spare the nerves. No larger magics though, and I suggest you keep the shields until your nerves are totally healed.'

'Thank you so much, all three of you,' Hermes said, and it seemed as if he expected me to hug him again. He was so much like Lukas, healing so fast, asking for so much love in a way that was so hard to resist.

I supposed he would have to learn the same manners, I remembered Lukas just assuming he could make love to me without even asking. George should talk to him about that, to protect his staff, and even his daughters, and quickly, for he already seemed hurt by my unwillingness to give him love freely.

Lukas noticed too, and asked bluntly, in English: 'Is something wrong, father? You seem put out, had you hoped to be able to go home sooner?'

Hermes answered just as frankly: 'I don't understand, most women like me, want me to make love to them, but Melissa still doesn't seem to want to touch me, though I feel her attraction to me.'

And looking at me directly, with fire in his eyes: 'You're beautiful and I want you, you want me, so why don't you return my love?'

That look just totally froze me, it didn't have all the power of the god in it, but it was still immensely powerful, filled with need and love, and yes, even some pain.

I had foolishly thought I could hide my attraction from this man, just thinking of my side of the problem, never even realizing he could actually feel my attraction to him and be attracted to me. I was married only yesterday, I expected that to be my protection, but of course that didn't count at all in his culture.

He was a god and used to getting all the women he wanted, gladly probably. I had seen it coming, comparing his ways to Lukas' and still it caught me totally off guard.

Paul didn't kick me as ordered, he just unobtrusively took my hand, breaking the spell, and he gave me a very mild look as if to say that he didn't blame me for any of this.

Lukas now tried to explain to his father what he had learned when he first arrived: 'Father, Melissa was married yesterday.'

Hermes did not understand: 'I'm married too, what does that have to do with things?'

'In the culture of this land, people usually love exclusively.

Melissa may feel a physical attraction to you, she might even want to make love to you, but she will not, for then she would break the vows she made when she married Paul,' Lukas did quite a good job, putting my feelings into words.

But his father did not understand at all, and it seemed to me as if he was near despair, fixing me with that heated look again: 'Can't you make an exception for me? I'm a god, no woman has ever refused to love me. I'm badly hurt, you say yourself that being loved will heal me, I need your love.'

I could hardly breathe under that powerful gaze, and I wanted so much to answer the love in it, to relieve his pain and to feel those elegant hands om my perfect white flesh, but I could move my head, and I shook it most decidedly.

Once I'd done that I could speak again, and I said: 'I'm sorry Hermes, I love Paul more than anything in this world, and I'm not going to make him unhappy by giving in to physical attraction, to lust. It'll pass, for both of us.'

That had him gasping, and he blurted out: 'You make love to my son.' I nodded and said: 'That is right. I love him too, though I know he will not love me exclusively.

It was difficult for Paul to share my love with Lukas, and Lukas is the only person he will ever have to share it with.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, had I realized you could feel my attraction to you, I would have stayed away from your presence.'

I had made myself clear, that much was obvious.

Hermes bowed his head in defeat, I felt sorry for him, but I felt sorry for myself as well. For of course I wanted to comfort him, kiss him, stroke his beautiful face, now showing his rejection clearly.

His vulnerability made him even more attractive, and I was having a really really hard time controlling myself. I asked Paul: 'Can we please leave? Right now?'

He nodded, and got up, and helped me up as well. I could not even say goodbye to Hermes properly, for if I were to smell him I would surely break.

So I said: 'I have to leave now, and I will probably avoid your presence until we can both control ourselves better. I wish you all the best, and please have George explain to you how our society works and how women expect to be treated here.

Lukas, I suppose we'll see you tonight?' Lukas wrapped his arms around me, and his touch and musky smell calmed me a lot. He whispered in my ear: 'I'll try to explain to him, it is good for him to feel rejection, he will return a better god still. See you tonight.'

And I hugged George, Frances and Tristan, who offered his carriage, and I thanked him and told him I needed the exercise to calm down, which he understood of course, and I marched straight to the lane.

I suppose Paul took some time to say his goodbyes, for he did not leave with me, but he caught up with me quickly, and hand in hand we strolled towards the gate, and through it, back home along the now-familiar route, and when we got home he opened a bottle of wine and we sat on the sofa and drank it together, taking the edge off our feelings.

What a mess, what was I doing to both of us?

I started to cry, and since he had never seen me cry like this before, that really upset Paul, more than anything else that had happened today. He sat me in his lap, wrapped in his arms, nuzzling me, not silent this time, but anxiously begging me: 'Melissa, please tell me what is wrong? If you want him so much go to him, I can handle it, I'm used to sharing now, really.'

I clung to him, still unable to speak, feeling so much guilt for deserting him on the very day after our wedding. He deserved an answer to his plea, but I just couldn't speak, my throat was blocked with feelings, so I opened my mind to him.

His relief washed over me, he didn't blame me at all, how could he? Hermes was a god, no woman had ever resisted him before. If he had spells to speak English like a native and to keep his body looking like a twenty-five year old, what was to say he didn't have one to make him irresistible to anyone he fancied?

Paul let me feel all his admiration for my character, for still resisting the pull of my body, which remained weak and ached to console my handsome father-in-law.

'Can you make love to me tonight, beloved, or would it be spoiled?' Paul asked me softly, 'lets take a nice hot bath anyway, a swim will relax you.'

'And if that doesn't work, we'll calculate those four projects I sketched this morning,' I stated, 'calculations always make me really mellow.'

'They do?' Paul asked, 'I have the same with filing, or sculpting, or any metal-work really. But let's save that for emergencies, and try the bath first, as soon as I have checked you for spells and glamours.'

And he did that right there on the sofa, gathering power and stroking me from head to toe until I had a glowing nimbus around me. It lighted up in several colours, and each time Paul shook his head, until he dispelled the power and told me: 'I can find nothing, but I want Lukas to check you as well, as soon as he returns.

And I want to check him as well, I'll guide you through my method, and I want you to use your sight on him, I don't want him to pack up and leave as soon as his charming father is well enough to return home.'

Then we went to the beautiful bathroom and filled the tub, swimming tiny circles in the hot water until we were totally relaxed.

And when Paul carefully started to touch me in exciting places, it felt natural and very good, and he built up my lust and my passion so familiarly and so intimately, that I never once mistook him for anyone else, his beloved face keeping a close eye on me, his mind brushing mine, letting me feel his love and his admiration for the power of my will.

He brought me to one climax after another, the last one coupled with him, timed perfectly through our connected minds. After that, my body was so sated, that it could not work up any lust anymore, not even for a fallen god with the face of an angel.

We sat on the bed together, and Paul said: 'What did you think of what Tristan said about my guardianship today, do you think the responsibility is hurting me?

I've been thinking about it a lot. I don't think it has aged me beyond my years, I think that is just my need to always be in control, but I'd like to travel a bit, the idea of being stuck in this part of the city my entire life does oppress me.

Seeing Tristan handle magic made me wish I could work it as easily and as subtly, and I know I just need practice to improve my skills. I like working magic a lot better with the two of you and him.'

I kissed him and gave him my opinion: 'If you really had aged beyond your years, you would look older even when you were sleeping. I have only known you as you are now, and I fell in love with you as you are now.

If you don't feel a burden, if you can be happy this way, I have no problem with it. But I'd like to meet that council, if they want to influence my future as much as yours, I think they need to be a little more personal, for I am not from a family of guardians and I am learning magic because of you, not them.

Also, you have to be able to travel and broaden your experience, you cannot be stuck here all the time.'

It was good to lie in our own bed and talk about the things that mattered.

'I'm seriously considering asking Tristan for help to prepare for an adept testing, working magic alone was disheartening, but today made me realize things have changed for good, and for the good,' Paul observed.

'Good for you!,' I exclaimed, 'you love your one job, why not try to love the other one as well?

I'm sure he will be very willing to help you, for he told me today he wants to teach in his school.'

That was clearly something Paul loved to hear, and he said: 'That is just amazing, remember that stiff upper-class bloke we met only days ago?

He seems totally transformed, I really like him now. Some of that is Lukas' influence, he seems really good at connecting people.'

'He should be, after being a diplomat for twenty-five years,' I observed.

That silenced Paul instantly, and it took a while before he said: 'That was quite a shock, wasn't it? Do you think he is playing a role, or did he really manage to stay innocent for all those years?'

I replied: 'I suppose I think the diplomat is the role he plays, and plays really well, but I truly believe we know the real Lukas, that sweet, innocent creature is the real him, and that he has managed to stay that way through years of court intrigue proves that he is really special.

He does have way more experience with life than we do, and I think you saw it too, just one moment today, but he has not been deceiving us. How could he, mind to mind?'

Paul retorted: 'Well, he is a half-god, you know. He might be able to control our thoughts.'

'But why would he, he seems happy just to live with us,' I said, 'remember how shy he always was towards you?'

This did convinced Paul: 'He was, wasn't he? It feels weird now, him treating me with deference when he is twice my age. Why would he do that?

I never did anything to deserve so much respect from him.'

'He just loves you so much, that made him shy, he was afraid you'd reject him,' I replied.

Just then, the subject of our conversation came in, breathing a bit heavy, clearly eager for a little attention.

He squeezed in between us, and as we hugged and kissed him, he said: 'I ran back, couldn't wait to see you again. You certainly gave my father his comeuppance, Melissa, he's even worse than I was, so used to getting his way in everything.'

This could not be an act, telling us his father was spoiled whilst offering us his cute curly head for a good scratch, this had to be genuine innocence, and we fell for it of course, giving him everything he asked for.

'How did he take it?' asked Paul, laughing at Lukas' display of affection.

'Very badly,' Lukas answered, closing his eyes in bliss as we both caressed his sweet face very gently, relieved he was still our guileless lover, 'he didn't make a scene, he merely sank into a hurt silence, which George managed to coax him out of, but only with a lot of caressing and kissing.

I'm glad you managed to withstand him, not just for Paul, but also for me. He was just trying to get back at me through you.'

Did I want to know for what? Actually, I did. I loved Lukas to bits, but if Hermes had a reason to get back at Lukas I thought we needed to know.

Especially since it was through my feelings that this battle was being fought. I fixed Lukas with a severe look and said: 'Tell me about it. This may concern me just a teeny bit, agree?'

Lukas sobered up a lot under my stare, snuggled against me with his most innocent look, and confessed: 'I may have made love to his wife at one time.

But I was a different person then, I had just lost my mother and through her death, my father as well.'

'And do you really think he is going after me to hurt you?' I pressed him.

'Actually, I don't think he even knows I slept with her, I think he has really fallen for you. We just seem to have very similar tastes in women. And men. I miss George,' Lukas said, a bit sadly.

How did he do it, tell us things like that, and getting away with it? I even felt sorry for him for having lost George to his dad.

Paul now said in a serious voice: 'Lukas.'

Lukas turned around instantly, almost anxiously, and replied: 'Yes, Paul?'

'May I check you for spells and glamours? And will you check Melissa for emotional tampering and show us how to check you?'

Relieved Paul wasn't going to reprove him, he said: 'Sure, of course. You think my father has tampered with our feelings?'

Still very seriously, Paul replied: 'I have no idea, but I want to know. I don't want to wake up one morning all alone, with both of you gone through the portal with him. That'd kill me.'

Lukas caught him in a tight grip, face to Paul's chest in distress, saying: 'He won't do that, Paul, he is already changed by his experience here, his intentions are honest. He treats George with sincere affection, and he has been very forthright with me, how he thought it was his right to profit from my Gift.

He denied having set me up for the kidnapping, though. He says he found the portal after a long search, using magic and even an oracle.

That suggests he does love me. I choose to believe that he loves me. But of course I will help you check me and Melissa for tampering, he is a god and he likes to have his way.

And he is my father, I know my morals used to be rather flexible. And I most certainly don't want to leave you here alone, that would kill me just as much.'

'Flexible morals, eh,' Paul said, as he lifted Lukas from his chest easily, dumped him on the bed, and sat on top of him in a split second.

Lukas looked a bit overwhelmed at first, but when Paul kissed him heartily he answered the kiss eagerly enough, closing his eyes and giving himself up to the man he loved.

'You've certainly taught me some flexible morals,' Paul observed, as soon as he had his breath back after that kiss, 'maybe I'll have a pass at your beautiful father myself.'

And kissing Lukas again, scratching his horns a tiny bit, he added: 'Though I think I prefer the son, he is so much cuter.'

Lukas was gasping for breath now, fire in his eyes, and he said huskily: 'What are you doing to me, Paul, you're making me crazy, we were going to do some magic, weren't we?'

'I was just teasing you a little, Lukas,' Paul said, letting him go, 'haven't you ever horsed around?' Lukas looked confused again.

'I suppose that's a no,' Paul said, 'so I'm going to have to teach you. I have three older brothers, so I'm an expert.'

And with no warning, he jumped Lukas, pinning him to the bed again, but Lukas still didn't get it, he didn't resist, just looked hurt.

I decided to step in, and said: 'I'll help you, Lukas, watch this.'

And I tickled Paul in his sides, which caused him to fold up, and then I jumped him, trying to hold him on the bed.

Lukas looked on, as Paul started to wrestle me, his greater strength against my greater weight, and before long he had me under him, and he kissed me as lustily as he had kissed Lukas.

But Lukas had gotten some insight in the game now, and he pushed Paul over and wrestled him, giving him good opposition despite his smaller size and weight.

Paul resisted and they rolled over once, and again, Lukas now starting to see the fun in it. They weren't all that badly matched, but it was hard for Lukas to go all-out, he hadn't practised this against stronger brothers all his youth, and he was smaller and slighter than Paul, and still a bit in awe of him.

I silently lauded Paul for thinking of this way to make Lukas more comfortable touching him, and it certainly seemed to work, Lukas was sitting on Paul's chest comfortably, until Paul heaved him off and turned the tables on him.

But Lukas no longer submitted to Paul's greater strength, he looked at me conspiratorially, and with a sudden move, pushed Paul to the side. Then we both jumped our bossy lover, and pinned him to the bed together.

Against the two of us, he didn't stand a chance, but he did not give up at first, he struggled doggedly against the weight holding him down, and our hands holding his arms against the bed.

Somehow, Lukas and I had decided on the same conclusion to this romp, we both wanted total surrender from Paul, we wanted him to accept the loss of control, we were the people he trusted most in the world after all.

He didn't speak out against us being unfair, he just kept up the struggle until he had to admit there was no way he could free himself from the two of us, and then he gave up and laid still.

At first, he looked defeated and chagrined at our unfairness, but slowly he seemed to realize we were the people he loved and who loved him, and bit by bit he let go of his control over his body and trusted it to the two of us.

It was a very profound moment, I could see the release in his face, the tension draining away from him, and trust and love taking its place.

Now Lukas, who had appeared to be holding and watching Paul impassively, let his real feelings show on his sweet face, and I truly believed I saw a tiny part of his hidden depth again as he touched Paul fearlessly, tenderly brushing away a stray curl from Paul's face, and kissing him lightly on the lips.

Though we had released him by now, my bossy husband seemed to quite like his submissive position, for he made no move to get up or even change it, and even when I kissed his now boyish face he only accepted the kiss, he did not return it actively or touch me in return.

This worried me of course, and he just said mildly: 'Don't worry, I'm just enjoying not trying to be in control. It's more difficult when you two are not helping me, but I'm still succeeding.

Please go on, please love me, I'm feeling it now as I never have been able to feel it, but it's not going to last, I want to make the most of it now.

So I kissed him, and Lukas and I both stroked him and fondled him, and he just let it happen, enjoying it to the full.

After a few minutes he took control again, and the special moment had passed, but I was certain that now we knew it could be done, we would find a way to release him from his need for control again in the future.

We left it at that, and performed and submitted to magic as we had planned. Paul showed me how to check Lukas for spells, activating magic all around him, and trying to detect any magic in all the different traditions Paul knew.

Then I checked his internal structures, and I found him accumulating the pink energy much like his father, but no red or green stuff, no worshipers and no harvesting of energy from the world around us. He clearly got plenty of love, which satisfied me that Lukas was happy with us. I could see no tampering in his emotions or mind, though of course I realized there was a lot I didn't know about empathic magic.

Lukas then checked my connections, and found my energy composed of blue power, and nothing else. Love was of no use to me in powering my magic, I really had to gather it for myself from the usual sources.

And in my mind and feelings there was no reason to suspect tampering either. It was a relief to both myself and Lukas, knowing we had not been taken in by magic, but just won by Hermes' personal charm and in Lukas' case, by memories of the past.

I didn't think of him all the time, having had my lust drained kept my body quiet, and any attraction his vulnerable state afforded him was greatly reduced by not seeing him before me. I was glad to fall asleep without experiencing any more stimulating thoughts of him, and I hoped my dreams would be undisturbed by his attractions.


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

But there I was wrong, in the middle of the night I awoke with a gasp, having had a very vivid dream of Hermes and me, making love avidly in the greenhouse at the Nomes' estate.

There were no statues in the house to send a dream, and Hermes couldn't magic his way out of a paper bag at the moment, and anyway, I didn't think he'd ever been in the greenhouse, so the only possible conclusion had to be that my own subconscious had presented me with this fantasy.

It was not a nice realization, it felt much like swooning, my body betraying me in a weakness that disgusted me.

How could I beat this? I didn't want these feelings, I had finally settled with the man I had pursued for nearly half a year, finally reached an understanding despite a big complication in the shape of an appealing and loving goat-man.

I wanted to live happily ever after, work out our own little lives, and enjoy them. Part of me told the rest it wouldn't be such a big deal to give Hermes what he wanted, he'd probably let it go after having made love a few times, Paul wouldn't mind so much.

But that wasn't the problem to me, the problem was that I wanted to be in control of my own life, not my lust, not my tender streak.

I could not find sleep again, my feelings plagued me, I felt lust, the aftermath of the dream haunted me, touching that fabulous body, having such a powerful man love me, give himself up to me, followed by the remembrance of my first weeks with Paul, the silent admiration I felt for him, the intensity with which he looked at me, still looked at me, his incredible artistry, acquired with hard work and dedication, so like my own.

I remembered the first time I met Lukas, the love I still felt for him, and the shock of learning his real age, then his father's needy look struck me again, and I remembered the dream, so much like that first morning with Lukas, who had needed me as badly.

As my head kept spinning, and I tossed and turned restlessly, I felt a soft touch on my shoulder. Turning around I found Lukas looking at me, wide awake, and he softly said: 'Come to me.'

I was totally overcome by this sweet recognition of my need, and within a heartbeat I was in his arms, head buried in his chest, crying my eyes out, quietly though, so as not to wake up Paul.

Lukas did not show any sign of distress at my display of emotions, he just held me in silence, caressing me gently, not trying to appease me or stop my crying, letting me cry myself out. It felt good, so incredibly good, to share my embarrassment and my grief with someone I knew wouldn't be hurt by it, or judge me for feeling it.

When my tears ran dry, and I looked up at him, I could see he was really emotional as well, not crying, but definitely feeling something very strongly.

'I can still feel the love you gave me those first days very clearly, Melissa, the rest is hazy, but the love stands out, as if it was yesterday that you saved my life.' Lukas' voice was rough with feeling. I couldn't speak, my emotions still had me by the throat.

'I can feel what that memory does to you right now. To you, this situation is the same, Hermes needs your love, and you desperately want to save him, but you are no longer able to give your love freely.'

He ran his hand through my hair and said, still affected: 'I put it to you that the situation is not the same. My father is not going to die without you, he is not even desperately unhappy without you. He has a serious crush on you but it is, as you so aptly named it, just lust, he'll get over it.'

Now I managed to say: 'But it is not just that I want to save him, I think of touching his body, I dream of making love to him, my body aches for him.

Why? I get plenty of love from the two of you, I don't even want his. Remember how desperately I wanted Paul to love me? Why can't I be satisfied with having that longing fulfilled? I don't want to risk hurting him, losing him.'

Lukas now spoke soothingly, still caressing me tenderly: 'Beloved, he doesn't blame you for anything, this hasn't hurt you at all in Paul's eyes. He admires you for resisting the seduction of being loved by a god, don't underestimate my father's charisma, even without active use of magic. I'm very sure Paul wouldn't even find fault with your giving in to it, he'd understand.'

Now Lukas hands were still for a moment, and I looked up at him again, finding a sad look on his face, something I couldn't remember having seen there before.

He took my face in both his hands, kissed me gently and spoke in that same, rough, voice of a few moments earlier: 'I'm ashamed to admit that Paul has the advantage on me there, Melissa. I plead you, beg you even, will you please not give in to your longing for my father? Will you keep resisting his avances for me as well as for Paul? I've changed I'm afraid, I find the thought of sharing you with him unbearable.'

His face fell even more as he said this, and his expression just wrung my heart. He usually cried easily, but it seemed as if this confession was so hard for him he couldn't even find relief in shedding a few tears over it.

My own spirits lifted instantly by this endearing confession, I tightened my hold on my dearly beloved friend, and I tried to keep my voice light as I said: 'Oh my love, I don't think you are changing into a Victorian, unable to share love.

I'm sure it's perfectly natural not to want to share lovers with your own father, even for you. I promise you I will do everything in my power to resist your father's attraction, and I'll do it for all of us, including George. You know I love you to bits, don't you?'

Lukas nodded, and we kissed.

'Will you do me a big favour?' I asked Lukas. He nodded again.

'I want you to totally drain my lust away before we go back to sleep, to prevent me from having one of those dreams again,' I sincerely believed this would help me resist my body's pull towards Hermes.

Any sadness, guilt, or other negative feeling was instantly gone from Lukas' face, as fire sprang to life in his eyes, and he looked at me again in that way that took my breath away, which was actually not his way, but Paul's.

Without saying another word, he kissed me with all the fire I had seen in his eyes, which didn't help at all getting enough air in my lungs.

Then his arms closed around me again, pressing me to his chest, and I felt his love and his need for me as clearly as if he'd opened his mind to mine.

They were deeper and much larger than ever before, and from that moment on I feared we Victorians had indeed infected Lukas with our morals somehow, I sincerely hoped he was still able to share his love, that his plea concerning his father was an exception.

But my fears were very quickly overruled by passion, as he lowered me to the bed, and still surrounded by his arms, kissed greedily by his dented lips, I felt his solid erection slide right into me and touch me inside, making me forget all my worries, insecurities and heated thoughts of his father.

There was only one true master of the art of love, and he was holding me in his arms right now, laughing again, in his element, making me moan with desire, eager for more.

Not even a god could best this, I had never been more sure of anything in my life, he was riding me with energy, and every one of his thrusts seemed to hit the right nerve inside me, tingling through me, making my mind spin with pleasure, the tension in me rising and rising, until I had a shuddering climax, which he rode until it died down, leaving only the heat between my legs and a huge lust for more.

Removing himself from me he controlled his own rising passion to continue his love-making with his tongue, every movement of this soft, agile appendage on my throbbing clitoris sending shocks through me, waves of pleasure coming over me again and again, until I climaxed again, after which he continued, using his nimble fingers to heighten my sensations even more.

He was surely planning to drain my lust totally, for he didn't stop there, he gave me climax after climax until I could hardly feel aroused anymore, I just knew I was totally sated.

But of course he was the master of loving and he proved me wrong, for when he draped my legs around his neck, and entered me forcefully once more, with the luscious flesh of my legs no longer in his way, he reached a place inside me that had never been touched before.

As he plunged in and out with lightning speed and matching force, a whole new set of ecstatic feelings came into existence inside me, to be explored, not at his leisure, but at a frantic speed that proved his own towering need.

This was even better than before, why put such a supremely sensitive spot where no-one but the most eager would ever find it?

I didn't know and I couldn't think about it either, for my last onset of arousal was coming to a quick and very intense high, released from me in a series of shudders, flaring up the tiniest bit with the last frantic plunges from my lover.

Then he crashed on me, markedly out of breath this time, a sign of his extreme effort to drain me, but I couldn't help feeling smug, maybe also to impress me with his prowess?

Well, he had certainly managed to do that. As I thoroughly enjoyed his heaving body on me, enveloped in his strong musky scent, I felt utterly and totally spent.

There was not even a hint of lust left in my body, I tested it by imagining Hermes' burning eyes and his enticing scent, but I felt only total satisfaction and admiration for his gorgeous son.

'You must have heard this many times before, Lukas, but you are the best,' I whispered to the still heaving man on my chest.

He smiled broadly, and admitted: 'I have heard that a lot before, but I've never worked as hard for it as just now. Thank you. Did it work?'

This with a lot more humour than before.

'It most certainly did, I can't feel anything even resembling lust anymore, just satisfaction and admiration for your skills.'

Now the smile broadened even more, making him look as cute and as innocent as ever, and he rolled off me and laid in my embrace, overcome with sleep now, but fighting it to see me happy. 'I'm good, Lukas, I'm tired too and my mind is free of thoughts and people I don't want there. Go to sleep, rest easy,' I told him, and I stroked his curls tenderly.

That had him asleep in seconds, and I took a few seconds to check on Paul, who was still sleeping, then I snuggled against Lukas and fell asleep soon after.

No enticing dreams disturbed my sleep, and I woke up refreshed and ready for a new day.

And had Lukas now cured my infatuation miraculously?

Unfortunately, no, I did still think of Hermes several times a day, but Lukas' plea had added another motive to resist it. Not wanting to give either myself or Hermes oil to fuel our crush with, I did not go to the Nomes' that day, and Paul stayed with me the whole day.

In the morning we went to a building site, to check materials for Mr Jones, on the other side of town. He sent a carriage to fetch me, making me feel really special.

He got his money's worth out of me though, for we discovered several serious faults in expensive blocks of natural sandstone, and not all of the wood was of the prime quality it was supposed to be. We marked the faulty pieces and paid our compliments to Mr Jones himself, who had come over to hear our verdict on the materials.

Planning to visit the workshop the following day, to check on his commissioned boilers and pumps, he told us he would gladly look at the drawings for the greenhouse, to make an offer on the iron frame. We had a copy with us, and handed it over to him.

When we returned, Lukas was back from his morning run and visit to his father, and in the late morning and early afternoon he was with Paul in the workshop, the guys working on their projects for Mr Jones.

I was calculating and drawing the four possible inventions very precisely, and the extreme concentration that my work demanded caused me to long for silence and solitude, so I retreated to my own apartment, where I found total peace for a few hours.

This was me in my element, nothing could come between me and measurements and figures, no men, gods or even food.

The guys had to fetch me for lunch and for dinner, for I would not stop of my own accord, and after that day we had four detailed drawings of inventions that were ready to shoot and scrap, or turn into a prototype.

Paul and I spent a quiet evening together, with Lukas at the manor to see his father, the two of us talking a lot about our hopes and expectations for the future, and it became clear to me that Paul had thought a lot on Tristan's remarks about him being too young to be stuck in a life-long position already.

To develop as a mage, Paul was now convinced he needed to broaden his experience, to see something of the world, and he was thinking more and more of working towards the subtlety he had so admired in Tristan's magic, and towards his adept-testing.

I was thrilled to hear him talk with energy about magic as a challenge, instead of as a duty to be performed for the rest of his life, shackled to his fate and to his house in the city. This was the man I knew, the lively, exciting inventor.

Actually, the evening felt much like how I had imagined our wedding-night, after our hectic real first night as a married couple, this one seemed destined to finally bring that intense togetherness, contemplating the future, looking back on our life together so far.

We were both totally relaxed, and in that same spirit we retreated to our bedroom where we made love as quietly as we had spent the whole night.

That didn't mean I wasn't totally drained of lust afterwards, Paul had seen to that in his usual thorough manner, and though I didn't look forward to another long night, I didn't dread it either.

During that whole evening I hadn't thought of any man but the one I had wanted from the first time I saw him, who loved me so intensely that him looking at me could still cause my heart to skip a beat.

We didn't wait for Lukas to come home and just stayed in bed, slowly falling asleep in each other's arms.

Until I woke again with a start in the middle of the night, having had one of those dreams, finding Hermes in agonizing pain, dazed, with no clue who or where he was. I had taken him in, and saved his life with tender care and all the love I could give. No steaming lovemaking this time, but heart-rending scenes of helplessness and deep feelings.

Wide awake, I realized that the helpless creature of my dreams was not really Hermes, but a combination I had made myself of Lukas' emaciated and beaten former self, of Paul's self-assured but love-starved and hopelessly enamoured side, and even some parts of Jonathan as I first met him, noble, strong, but lonely and suffering in silence.

This realization was very healthy for me, clearly Lukas was right, I did have a tender streak, for I had not dreamt of Hermes overwhelming me with his masculinity, he had been helpless and in great need.

And I knew he was not really, for he had George to see to his every whim.

Still, I couldn't find sleep easily, and I tossed and turned restlessly, until I found Lukas watching me again, with that same intense look that had left me breathless before.

With my heart beating in my throat, and my love for him soaring, still I was confused.

Ever since Lukas' real age had been revealed to us, it seemed he had started to live up to it every so often. He could still be the uncomplicated innocent I had fallen for, and who had wrapped Paul around his little finger soon after, but sometimes I got a glimpse of a much more involved, much wiser person, hiding inside the rakish youth we loved so much.

And when that man looked at me intently from Lukas' eyes, as he did at this very moment, he took away my breath like Paul did, causing a collision of my feelings, for the love in those eyes was so deep, I couldn't imagine him having anything left to share out.

And if Lukas were to claim my love, wouldn't that ruin everything we had built up together?

Of course this Lukas could see right through me, and he took me in his arms really tenderly, belying the smouldering look. Holding me against him without touching me passionately, he didn't fondle my breasts, or stroke my skin, or feel between my legs. He just held me really close, his face against my throat, breathing in my scent, feeling my body touch his own.

He let me feel his incredible need for me, and I couldn't help stroking his curls gently, a familiar gesture, meant to bring back my familiar beloved to me.

And then he spoke, his voice deep and calm: 'It's not new you know, I've always had this serious side, you've seen it even before my father told you my age.

But it has been getting stronger, living with the two of you, experiencing your commitment to your work and to each other

And having a Gift bestowed upon me, and the responsibility that comes with it, the life-experience I've gained through healing people's minds, the things we've been through together.

Defying my father. So much has happened, Melissa, how could I stay the man I was? I'm growing up, just like you.'

He was right, he had been through a lot, even more than us, and of course that would change him.

In fact, it was a miracle that he had managed to stay as innocent and unspoiled as he still was most of the time.

'And learning to love a little bit more exclusively is not so bad, is it?' he asked me.

I wanted to laugh and cry, but I did neither and just clung to him, knowing he'd catch my feelings straight from my mind, no need to elaborate.

Of course I loved this new Lukas even more, how could I not, with the same infinite goodness, now actively changing people's lives for the better?

Suddenly a realization struck me, of the incredible responsibility he had taken upon himself.

Changing people's lives.

It was so easily said, but such an immeasurable burden to actually do it, that it was too much for any person to live up to, it was a task more suitable to a god.

And then I really needed Lukas' strong hold on me, for my organized mind put two and two together, his parentage, his long youth, his lovable personality, his innocence, the strength of his empathy, the profoundness of his talent.

Under our very eyes, our very dear friend was coming into his own, years of boyhood ending, his manhood on the verge of a beginning, but not as a man.

Holding me tightly, finding solace in my closeness, and offering me the same comfort, he whispered: 'I'm not a god, Melissa. I'm not. A god would not feel everything so intensely. There is so much suffering, here, and in my home-world, I cannot face it on my own.

I need both of you, your strength, your compassion, even your morals, to change it. I will not claim your exclusive love, nor will I claim Paul's love for myself, and I do have love to share with others, but I need all the love you can spare me to face my future, to relieve the suffering I feel everywhere.'

Suddenly I understood why he could not share my love with his father. He didn't want it for himself, he needed it to stay sane.

And I understood why my dad had unleashed Hermes on him, and wanted him to conquer both his fear and his resentment. My father had known all along what Lukas' future was going to be like.

.

'And I hope you understand now why I need to stay here, with the two of you, learning a craft, one man amongst many, anonymously. I cannot go from loser to saviour in one long haul. I need time, time to accept my fate, time to learn as much as I can, time to have some fun, make my life worth living. Learn about my Gift, accept the sacrifices it demands, share the burden with the two of you, if you are willing.'

And without any hesitation I let my tears flow, I didn't even try to control them, I wanted Lukas to have them, to feel them, I gave them to him freely. And he let me feel the full depth of his love for me, and it had grown again, more now than an ordinary man could feel for any person, but it did not frighten me anymore, for I knew my beloved had more love to give than an ordinary man, I knew he felt as much love for Paul, and still had to spare for countless others, friends or strangers.

We held on to each other for some time, sharing love, and tears, and comfort. And when our tears had dried, and we had both recovered a little from the shock of our realization, Lukas kissed me with heat, his dented lip greedy on my mouth, his hands now exploring the wealth of my luscious body, and he asked me: 'Can we make love now?'

And we did, minds and bodies as one, slowly for as long as Lukas managed, until finally he became restless again and plunged in me with his usual energy.

When we were both exhausted and Lukas was totally out of breath, we gave ourselves up to sleep, and neither of us woke until dawn, when I opened my eyes to find him dressed and ready to go for his morning run.

'Will you tell Paul?' I asked.

He nodded, and said: 'When I return and we are working, we always talk a lot as we work, and I'll try to find the right words to describe the process I'm going through. I hope he'll understand, I guess he's seen some changes in me as well as you. Maybe you want to be there too?'

I thought of the change in Paul himself, and I replied: 'I do want to be there, and I do think he will understand. He is changing too, you were right, we are all growing up.'

Lukas left, and I snuggled up to my husband, who wrapped me in his arms and kissed me sleepily, good for at least another hour of intense love.

But Lukas didn't get to talk to Paul that morning, before the guys were settled in the workshop Mr Jones visited to check on the commissions. He was very pleased with the progress, and they made a few appointments for installations. He had an offer for the framework of the greenhouse all ready, and he left it for us to look at.

Paul offered him coffee and a tour of his masterpiece, and Mr Jones eagerly accepted, the word 'masterpiece' clearly music to his ears.

And he was not disappointed, as he stepped on to the wrought iron gallery of Paul's apartment his jaw dropped, and he did not even attempt to get it in its rightful position until he wanted to drink his coffee. For Paul, it was a rare opportunity to show his best work to someone who really knew the workmanship involved.

After Mr Jones left, Paul got callers he had never expected to receive at his own house in the reduced middle-class neighbourhood where he chose to live.

A carriage stopped in front of the shop, and when someone knocked on the door it was clear we had visitors. Lukas ran to open the door, and we could hear him say: 'Sir Kenwick, Lady Kenwick, what a pleasant surprise! Won't you come in, let me lead you to Paul's workshop.'

Paul had a second to prepare for his parents' entrance, and he rose to the challenge, dressed in his usual worn shirt and threadbare trousers, scorched leather apron, scuffed high boots, his face slightly smudged and his hair standing out in all directions.

I quickly used a buffing cloth, always cleaner than Paul's working clothes, to wipe off the worst soot-stains from his face, and I smoothed his hair with my hands. Then I kissed him full on the mouth.

He laughed and turned to face his parents, whom I must say didn't seem to see their son's attire, for they were gazing at the fruits of his manual labour in absolute wonder. Fortunately the guys hadn't had time to really work this morning, so they weren't as grubby nor as sweaty as they usually were at this time of the day.

Paul's mother now exclaimed: 'But this is beautiful, did you make all this with your own hands?' With a helpless look at both of us, Paul replied: 'Together with Lukas, yes, I did.'

She embraced her son and kissed him, and did the same to Lukas and me, still looking around her at all the marvels standing, hanging and leaning everywhere, in different stages of completion.

His father had stood in total silence for some time, but now he came back to life and managed a warm embrace for Paul, saying: 'You are very talented, my son, a real artist. I can imagine this gives you pleasure to make.'

This was a big concession on his father's part, and Paul repaid the compliment: 'Thank you, father, wait till you see the masterpiece, my sanctuary. And you will be pleased to know that I have found a new challenge in magic-use the last weeks, I'm planning to pick up practising for my testing.'

This clearly made both Paul's parents very happy, and he asked them to come into the house for some coffee.

They accepted of course, and Paul's mother said: 'Did Frances tell you about our plans to have a greenhouse built? We want one of those lovely winter-gardens, and she showed us your work,' this at me, 'and it was exactly what we were thinking of for our town-house. We hoped you might be interested to build it for us.'

Picking up Mr Jones package, Paul moved towards the door, saying: 'If you please follow me, we can discuss that over some coffee, and we can check out this offer for a frame that Mr Rupert Jones has made us. He has built the glasshouse that inspired Frances for her commission to us.'

And so we all went up two flights of stairs, and as they entered Paul's Gothic palace, his parents were really stunned for a few moments. They seemed to feel the almost religious atmosphere most people experienced when first entering it.

The silence was broken by Lukas, who said: 'I'll make the coffee, will you help me, Melissa?'

Of course I could take a hint if a mind-healer with twenty-five years experience in diplomacy hit me over the head with it, so I excused myself, and followed Lukas to the kitchen.

Once there, Lukas kissed me lovingly, and confessed: 'I still like your dad best, though maybe Paul's and mine aren't so bad after all.

He was all rakish again, and though he didn't fool me anymore, I still melted on the spot, for he was so cute and loveable. I took hold of his stubbled jaws, and kissed his dented lip, breathed in his musk, as much in love with him as I'd ever been.

I wasn't afraid what our future together would bring, for though I realized it would be a lot less quiet if we were going to help Lukas to improve people's lives, it would also be very rewarding. Having been very much involved in his healing efforts so far, I had relived very painful experiences with his patients, but its effect had in all cases been remarkable, changing lives for the better so dramatically that the cost had been well-worth it.

Of course the cost to Lukas was much higher still, but I was certain that Paul and I could always support him and help him bear the burden.

A pair of laughing eyes on me pulled me out of my reverie, my thoughts miles away until I found Lukas so close to me that our faces nearly touched, my hands still on his cheeks and his arms wrapped around me, and he observed with one of his incredibly broad smiles: 'Don't worry, beloved, I'm still me. I won't forget how to make some fun, and I'm sure I will still do things without thinking them through first.'

Then we kissed once more, and took the coffee, the cups, and a nice pie Lukas had just baked into the living-room, where Paul was still talking to his parents intently.

His father now came towards us, and said: 'I'm sorry I didn't greet the two of you earlier, I must confess this visit had me a bit out of sorts, talking to your dad opened my eyes to why Paul had retreated from us, and I knew it was largely up to me to try to make repairs. You may have noticed social interaction doesn't come easily to me.'

Lukas clearly expected me to be the first to say something, and since he was the diplomat, I did my duty to propriety, but in my own style, approaching Paul's father slowly so he could prepare himself, then embracing him familiarly, as I had done on the day of our wedding.

He held himself admirably, not shying back or freezing, and I said: 'I did notice, Sir Kenwick, and I've always been aware of a similar diffidence in your son, clearly he has it from you, so I appreciate your efforts today at their full value.'

Lukas shook hands amiably, and observed: 'Sir Kenwick, I'm certain Paul is very glad to see you here, showing an interest in his true calling. Thank you for coming.'

A bit more relaxed now, Paul's father admitted: 'I never had an idea he was this good at what he did, there is so much artistry but also so much love in all this. And you have made him so happy, both of you. Thank you so much.'

Of course Lukas was still an impulsive creature, and sensitive to love, and he could no longer control himself, embracing Paul's father as familiarly as I had, and the reserved noble accepted the intimacy with grace.

Of course years of estrangement could not be undone in moments, but I could see Paul was happy with his parents' short visit, and an important first step was made towards reconciliation.

We had coffee together, discussed the plans for the greenhouse, and Paul accepted a dinner invitation for the three of us, the next evening at his parents' town-house, not with the entire family, just themselves and his one sister still living at home.

The idea was, that we'd come early and check out the possible building site, then have dinner afterwards. Of course the very idea of a formal dinner at my in-laws made me intensely nervous, and very insecure.

How could I ever avoid disgracing myself with my lack of manners? I had fallen in love and married a youngest son from a noble family, but I never expected to have to mingle with that social class, the very idea frightened me as not even standing up to a god had.

Both Lukas and Paul saw, and sent me an encouraging mind-touch, very sweet, but not very helpful, and until our guests left I was as out of sorts as Sir Kenwick must have been at the idea of having to seek a reconciliation with his youngest son.

As soon as Paul had seen his parents to their carriage, and taken leave, he came towards me and wrapped me in his arms, saying: 'Dearest, don't worry, please. Why would you care what three stuffy nobles think of you? You are the best engineer in the city, contractors, builders and your former employer vie for your attention and pay you for your time. My parents and my sister have not done a day's honest work in their lives.'

Put that way, I regained some of my dignity, why did I worry so much about looking unsophisticated and rustic? I was a professional and had always resisted bowing to propriety. 'You are right, love, what should I care what they think?' I replied.

'On the contrary,' Paul said, 'let us make them think what we want them to. My parents offered their carriage to pick us up, but I refused. We'll take the bicycles, shake the place up a little!'

But still I made the two of them explain the principles of etiquette to me during lunch, and the weird thing was, that despite the huge differences in morality and customs between Paul's upper class and Lukas', their habits and tastes were strikingly similar.

After lunch, the guys really did put some work in, and I even got to help, filing and buffing castings fresh from their moulds

Soon, the events of the day were talked through, and Lukas apparently thought it was time to tell Paul about his revelations, for he asked: 'I wondered Paul, do you think differently about me since you've learned I'm twice your age?'

Paul looked up from the engraving he was making, a beautiful romantic hunting scene with ladies on horseback carrying falcons, ran his hand through his hair, giving it the impression of a curl-explosion, took a moment to formulate his thoughts and replied mildly: 'It not so much that I see you differently, nor that it started at the moment that your father revealed your age, but I do think you have changed, yes, quite profoundly actually.'

It was clear that Lukas expected an answer like this, but worried whether Paul meant it as a good thing, or not. His cute face was a bit uneasy, until Paul got up and stood beside him, stroking his rough curls, then sat on his lap and kissed his dented lip.

And then he said: 'If I think back at the person who dropped into our lives, helpless and dependent, and look at you now, self-assured and totally adapted to our weird society, I'm just stunned at the difference. But that is not all, that is just the surface-Lukas, a normal young man making his way in the world and growing up, like the two of us.

There is more to you, the way you healed those children, the way you forgave your father, the way you seem like a child sometimes, and your real age at others, even before we knew you were older than us.

I thought you'd grow away from us, but instead you seem to have grown towards us. Sometimes I feel our love for you is more important than our love for each other, Lukas.

Do you know why that is?'

Looking at our beloved friend with a wholly new expression, Paul just added: 'I see you do. Please tell me. But first I want to kiss you all over again.' And he did, he licked Lukas' upper lip in that cute, deep dent in the middle, then kissed him passionately.

And Lukas received that kiss with reverence, as if he could still not believe that Paul truly loved him.

I knew now Paul had felt it too, the change in Lukas, and that his love for our dear friend was on the verge of an upheaval.

But suddenly I also realized that worship was not what Lukas needed from us, he needed us to stay the same friends and lovers we had always been, his moral compass, the people who supported him, with whom he could be himself, even if he felt humble or insecure.

Remembering the awe in which Lukas had always held Paul, I realized he needed that still, needed someone to look up to. And looking at Paul I had good hope that he was still able to accept Lukas' reverence, maybe not for much longer if Lukas continued to grow so much, but for some time yet.

Lukas had accepted Paul's kiss with total surrender, still very much overwhelmed by the taller man, he clung to him with ecstatic love, and somehow Paul knew things needed to remain this way a little longer, and accepted it, despite his own changing feelings.

They sat in total silence for some time, Lukas clinging to Paul, the projection of his need reaching even me. It was the same feeling I had experienced last night, and when he let go of Paul at last, he told him: 'The call to help people is becoming ever stronger within me, Paul, it feels like my destiny lying in wait, about to catch me. I feel the need around me, and I have to answer it.

But I cannot do it without you two, you taught me how to commit to a goal, and how to conquer fear, and how to love with purpose.

Without you it will consume me, I will drown in other people's feelings. I want to learn a craft, lead a normal life, like you, and I want to control my talent, not let it control me, as it is already trying to do. I want to help people, but I want to live too, work, have fun, raise your children. Will you help me? Will you save me from my destiny?'


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Now Paul really surprised me, for he stood up, roughed Lukas' hair and said dryly: 'Sure thing, Lukas, let me just finish this engraving, and then we'll put those new bicycles together and try them out. And maybe we can have dinner on a little terrace in the park?

He went straight back to work, as did Lukas, and I picked up my filing and buffing as well.

Paul's concentration was incredible, he seemed to have disappeared from our world and gone to some other, and under his hands, the hunting scene took shape with no more guidance than a rough outline sketched in pencil.

And after that, the guys did indeed put Mr Jones' and Lukas' own bike together, having worked on the parts for several weeks. They each tested one in the street in front of the house, and when they functioned well, I got mine from the shed and we set out for a nice long ride.

The weather was fine, we had had a lovely sunny summer so far, and the roads were a little dusty, but flat and dry, and we cycled along the river for nearly an hour, crossing it and riding back on the other side, until we saw a nice park near the bank and stopped for our dinner.

The food was actually pretty nice and the view was lovely, the best the city had to offer. I said: 'Lukas, do you realize that this is the hottest time of the year, that in a few months it will get a lot colder, and it will start to rain a lot? Will you be able to cope with the cold?'

'George told me, I find it hard to imagine cold, I hope I can stand it,' Lukas replied.

'We'll have to order some warm clothes and thick boots for you,' Paul observed, 'and the house is easy to heat.'

'George told me some animals just crawl into a hole and go to sleep until the weather gets warmer again. Can't I just stay in bed all day?'

Paul licked his lips and replied: 'Hmm, good idea, then we'll always have a warm reception. Though you'd lose your firm muscles, and your stamina. Still, a flabby, lazy Lukas would be nice and cuddly too.'

As always when Paul teased him, Lukas became shy and helplessly pleased somehow. I found him very cute and oddly attractive that way, and maybe Paul did too, for he clearly enjoyed teasing Lukas a little.

Feeling a sudden heat rise in me, I proposed: 'Let's go home, all this talk of beds is giving me ideas.' Apparently, that feeling was mutual, for within ten minutes we had paid our bill and were on our way back home.

The one bicycle went back in the workshop, the other joined ours in the shed, and we all ended up on the bed, I guess feeling a bit awkward, for this had never happened before.

Sometime in the past, Lukas and I had promised Paul we'd make love where he would not have to witness it, and though it had happened that we were all three present, the circumstances had always been special.

Sitting there, our shyness was almost cute, but it was also quite an embarrassment, to know one another so well, to be so close and to have shared so much, and sit together on a huge bed as strangers, tongue-tied and unable to think of anything to do.

Lukas, the master of loving, the very best, but not now. And Paul, the unacknowledged leader of our little group, sitting there, eyeing both of us with a gaze of intense longing. What had we ever given him together that he could be longing for, but was loath to ask for?

Then it dawned on me, and I fixed Lukas with a look and sent a feeling his way, trying to make it as strong and as narrow as I could: 'Get him!'

Lukas returned the gaze, and started to crawl on hands and knees, slowly, prowlingly, in as wide a circle as the size of the bed allowed, towards a point behind Paul, fixing him with his eyes now.

I copied his movement, but towards the other side, also gazing at our bossy leader.

The longing was making way for anticipation, and I saw Paul tense. Was he going to give himself up straight away, or would he try to fight again?

He went for Lukas, who was ready for him and rolled away quite fast, evading Paul's attempt to get a hold on him, then jumping him from behind. They wrestled for a while, and when Paul managed to free himself from Lukas, it was my turn.

Paul was a bit out of breath already, but of course he was much stronger than I, so I didn't hesitate to pounce on him. But he didn't fight back, instead he turned over until I was sitting on his stomach, chest heaving, and he gave himself up to me.

'I yield,' he panted, 'I yield to your superior force.' And really slowly I could see him letting go, could feel it too, I got off his chest so he could relax his body without getting squashed, and I started to unbutton his shirt.

I wanted to stroke him, to smell him, my heat was rising quickly again, but I forced myself to move slowly, to enable Paul to seek total relaxation.

Lukas joined us, and he stroked Paul gently, and wherever he touched, Paul seemed to turn into jelly. Buttons undone, I decided to wait for Lukas, he seemed to have a much better handle on this than I had, I was nearly on fire by now, whilst he seemed as mellow as warm milk.

Still stroking Paul, over his bared chest now, Lukas looked at me, nudging me to follow his lead. So I emulated his movements, and not only did they turn Paul to jelly, they softened me up as well, draining my fire, releasing my tension.

Soon we were all bonelessly relaxed, lying back on the bed together, not a care in the world, touching and stroking each other, but without strong lust or fire, just enjoying our closeness.

And then someone knocked on the front door, loudly.

We were so relaxed we didn't sit up straight in bed, and Lukas got up really calmly, kissed both of us and said: 'You two take it really slowly, I'll answer the door, if you're needed I'll let you know.'

And incredibly, Paul managed to stay as he was, he moved but only to bend over me and kiss me lazily but really, really deeply, taking his time.

Totally involved with that kiss, I didn't hear anyone come in, and even when Lukas' head appeared over the bed and said something it took a while to register the message. It was so good to be held by my handsome young husband, kissing languidly, waiting for Lukas to return for some nice, steaming, wait a minute...

What had Lukas' head told us? We looked at one another, and realized George and Hermes were here, to return the statues. But Lukas had been at the manor-house this morning, and he was going to visit again tonight, he could have taken them with him any time.

Mood broken, we got up from the bed, Paul re-buttoning his shirt, and we left the room to meet Lukas on the landing. 'Sorry guys, but something seems up,' he said, and he led us to the hall, where George and Hermes were waiting for us.

'We're so sorry to disturb you,' George said, and he really looked it, Lukas was right, something was up, I had never seen George so distraught before, not even in the factory when had carried Paul out on his shoulder. Hermes looked even worse, not like a god at all, but like a really young man with a really big problem.

And Paul didn't step in to take control, he held my hand and let Lukas handle his friend and his father, which he did with the same calm we had experienced ourselves not ten minutes ago.

'Father, George, please come with me, we'll have a drink and talk about what has happened.'

Too bad Hermes would get his first glimpse of Paul's house in this state, it would have been interesting to see if a god would be as impressed by it as everyone I had seen so far. But he was Lukas' father, not Paul's, so it wasn't a big deal either.

Still, I kept a close eye on him as he entered the house and stepped on the wrought-iron landing, not yet realizing myself that I watched him without personal feelings, without need to comfort him, or touch him familiarly. I was just interested in his reactions.

And they did not disappoint me, it seemed Hermes even forgot his personal trouble for some time, for his mouth opened in silent expression of his admiration, and he lost himself in looking around, as we had all done our first time on this landing, taking in the exquisite detail of the ironwork of the landing itself, and the view it offered of the room below.

Paul sent me a tiny smug smile and squeezed my hand a little, then he released it and went ahead to the kitchen, leaving us to accompany Hermes as he advanced but slowly, finding something new to gaze at in wonder every step he took.

Neither Lukas nor George made any move to speed him up, they did not want to spoil the moment, and besides, whatever the trouble was that Hermes was in, he was not going anywhere for at least this week, so there was little point in making haste.

Lukas took the time to show his father the whole place, and I think not just to show off his friend's incredible talent, but also to give him time to quiet down a little. It had to be hard on a god to find himself so...human.

In the meantime, George and I had sat down on the sofa, and Paul had brought a bottle of wine and some glasses, which he filled for us. Then he sat down next to me, sipping the wine, curious how things would proceed and how Lukas would handle them.

From a satchel, George now produced the two elven statues, and handed them to Paul. Feeling a bit guilty for having convinced Paul to leave the statues to spy on George, I took them from Paul, got up and placed them where they had belonged before Paul brought them to the wedding on their own request.

When I took my seat back, Hermes and Lukas sat down too, and Lukas asked: 'Please, have a glass of wine, and tell us what is going on.'

George looked at Hermes, to see who would do the talking, and Hermes started out, his beautiful face now less anxious, playing with the glass of wine he had in his elegant hand: 'You all know what state I was in after our first unfortunate encounter here in your world. In agonizing pain, and near death, trying to survive, I never thought I'd find out what that felt like. The next day, I was much better, thanks to George, and of course Lukas, who saved my life in the first place, and though I was still very confused, in pain, humiliated by my failure and the realization of what I had done, and also, I am ashamed to add, by your rejection of my blatant attempts to get your attentions, Melissa.

But despite that, I knew there was something I had forgotten, something very important, to be more specific, the reason why I went through so much trouble to find you. When you disappeared, Lykos, it was not clear that you had been taken, proof had been left behind that you had chosen to leave, that you had reasons to leave, and not honourable reasons but a debt of honour, a duel you had to fight but wanted to avoid.

It seemed as if you had left to avoid the shame of having seduced a noble's daughter, afraid to fight her father over her dishonour

But when I went to the oracle in desperation, this turned out not to be true, and whomever tried to soil your reputation this way is probably the person who had you abducted in the first place.'

Of course, Lukas had probably heard this before, in one of his talks with his father, but I hadn't, and my heart burned for him.

Still, Lukas didn't show anger or hurt, he was all ear to hear the point of the visit.

'I couldn't remember why I went out of my way to find you, and why I was so desperate to get you to return with me that I had not only threatened you, but also your friends.

My distressed circumstances had caused me to forget it, to think only of getting better and returning home to my people.

Until just now, when I heard a mocking voice in my head, reminding me I had come here with a goal, and if I wanted to remember, to take the owner of the voice with me to the place where I had eavesdropped on the three of you for some time, planning to steal you back one night, in chains if needed.

Even now I don't remember why I even contemplated doing such a terrible thing to my own son, but I'm afraid it has to be something really bad.'

Now Paul asked: 'I'm going to sound very suspicious now, but how could you remember that someone falsely accused Lukas to prevent you from looking for him, and that it was very important to find him, and that you had visited the Oracle and even what it said, but not your reason for coming here?'

'I don't know,' Hermes answered, nearly desperate, 'I remember every nasty thing I said to my son, every threat I offered him, literally, but I do not remember why I did it. But I need to find out, maybe it will help us answer your question too.'

Lukas, whom this concerned most of all, now took charge of the situation, and said: 'Well, maybe the statues can explain their hint?'

And indeed a well-known ringing voice sounded in my head, and I supposed in everyone else's: 'It's so good to be home again after an entertaining holiday. I'm sure we've missed a lot of fun here, but hopefully you'll make up for that very soon..

So Hermes, when you first entered the cellar through the portal, we decided to keep an eye on you, see if you could offer us some entertainment. And listening in on your thoughts we found the reason why you came here, surprising how easily one may catch a god's thoughts.

When you started thinking of abducting Lukas and of chains, we decided to blow our cover and warn him, for without him we'd not have half as much fun. Besides, we like him, and what you were planning would certainly have killed him.

Then after the wedding, when we were spying on you to see if you were still as treacherous as you had been, you seemed to remember everything except that one important point, and that piqued us, but as we still liked your son better we watched and waited.

Since then you have convinced us of your true intentions, so we thought we'd tickle your memory a little. It may be quite important.

And though we can no longer read Lukas' surface thoughts, he is changed a lot, and it may be as important to him to know this.'

Another voice, a female one, though it was as ringing, now said: 'Stop boring these folks, and tell that poor guy what he needs to jog his memory. You know what, I'll tell him. Hermes, you need to drain that glass of wine, then go into the cellar. Hopefully the memory will hit you, if not, we'll tell you what we know.'

Somehow Hermes struck me as being so human, knowing finally what to do to regain his memory, but now hesitant to come to the point.

George and Lukas offered to accompany him, but the elves were adamant, he needed to go alone, for he had been alone when he still knew his reason for visiting.

So Lukas merely led his father to the door to the cellar, then returned to us.

I held out my arms to him, and he quickly sat on my lap, as tense as he had been relaxed earlier that evening. He even buried his head in my bosom, but that might just have been the opportunity, I didn't think he had anyone to make love with at the moment beside us, so I guessed he must be quite ready to get some by now.

After just five minutes the elves cried out in our heads: 'It worked, he knows!'

And when after another ten minutes he still hadn't shown up the male voice suggested: 'Maybe someone should fetch him?'

Paul got up and walked towards the cellar door, and within a few minutes he returned with Hermes, who looked beat. They both sat down again, and Hermes said: 'I'm done for. As soon as I stood in that tiny dark room again I remembered why I went through so much trouble to find you, Lykos. I need your help, or my life is over.'

Lukas of course could not deny this plea and he went to his father, sat in front of him and said: 'Tell me what is wrong, father.'

Hermes sat in silence for a few heartbeats, I guess to formulate his thoughts, and then he explained: 'I searched for you, because my position is in jeopardy, even as we speak my reign may have been usurped by insurgents. And not by another god, though my father has warned me to start minding my affairs, or even an enemy, but by an anarchist fraction headed by your sister Katarina.

I always knew she was different, unable to love anyone but just one man, but her mother and I thought it was her youthful folly, she'd come to her senses.

But lately she started to induce others, normal folk, my people, and yours, to deny love and stick to one partner. Her following grew and she denounced me, for having seen so many women.

She is taking my worshipers away from me, my powers are waning.

You two were always close, I hoped you might talk to her, so I searched for you until I had found you. Then I discovered your healing Gift, and I hoped you'd be able to heal her. When you refused to come I acted in anger and hubris, and was brought down.

But having seen this world I have lost hope, I know now Katarina is not alone in her sickness, apparently there are places where nearly everyone lives without love, and you, Lukas, seem to have been infected. You have not shared love with anyone since my arrival, except for the worst affected person here, who refused to love me even though I begged her for her love and she was aching to give it to me.

There is no hope for me, I will return to a world with no place to rest my weary feet after doing my duty. I will have no love waiting for me, my worshipers will flock to Katarina and my powers will wane to less than I have here, and my enemies will hunt me down and trample me. My father and Aphrodite will denounce me for allowing love to disappear from my realm.'

He was actually wailing now. I had the greatest respect for Lukas' ability to show his feelings, but Hermes' display was more like hysteria, and I observed it with distaste. I had always been able to control my emotions, and had little respect for those who couldn't.

Had I truly felt attracted to this man? Remembering Paul's dignity in his moments of agony, and Jonathan's quiet fortitude in the face of total hopelessness, I felt embarrassed by my own weakness.

But somehow the three men seemed able to feel real compassion for Hermes' plight, so I guessed something must be wrong with me.

Lukas, still kneeling in front of him, hugged his father lovingly, saying: 'I'm sorry to hear that Katarina is giving you trouble, father, you are right, we were always good friends. Her mother offered me a home when no-one else would have me, and when I lived with her, I watched Katarina grow up.

Even when I had to leave to work for Dionysus, I often stayed there for holidays. But if Katarina is so set against sharing love, she'll not listen to me, my reputation is apparently so bad even you believed the rumour spread around my disappearance.'

I could see that despite his new life with us, it hurt Lukas to hear that people in general had been willing to believe him dishonourable His abduction started to look more and more like a clever plot to thoroughly discredit him, but why would anyone bother?

According to himself, he didn't have any importance in his former life, no special talents, no status, he had been a misguided player hopping from one woman to another, although something in me objected to the term player: I had a hard time imagining him really hurting his lovers with broken promises or by forcing his love on them. Lukas was such a sensitive creature, he never claimed, and always gave his all.

'Katarina never believed any of those rumours, Lukas,' his father said, 'she has always held you in the highest esteem. She blamed me for your promiscuity, for having left you to yourself so suddenly, convinced you would have been able to live without love if I had done my duty to you. I just don't understand, how can anyone live without love?'

'What makes you think we live without love?' asked Paul, his voice sounding seriously interested, not defensive at all.

The idea of Paul not being able to love because he was very exclusive in his loving was ridiculous, I had never felt so much love from anyone in my life. Well, maybe excepting Lukas these last few days, but I was getting convinced more and more that Lukas was not entirely human anymore in his capacity to love.

Stunned out of his self-pity by Paul's friendly question, Hermes took a good look at him, at Paul's rugged good looks, his self-confident posture, the space around him that had been crafted by this quiet man's very own hands.

Then he looked at me, and I'm sure he must have felt the intense love I had for Paul, deep enough to allow me to deny my lust for god, and he must have felt the mirror-image of that intense love in his own son.

Then he looked at Paul again, who was totally secure in his love for me, for Lukas, and even for his beautiful craft.

Not a word had been spoken so far, but I could see a realization dawn in my father-in-law. His doubts flared up: 'But you know one another how long, a few months? I've loved a woman for a few months, but it never lasts.'

To my surprise, George now spoke up: 'Though I don't love that way myself, beloved, I know exclusive love can last for decades.'

'I'm not saying it is the only way to love, not even that it is the better way to love,' Paul now said, 'but loving exclusively is just another way to love. I experience intense love every day of my life since I have met Melissa, and since I have gotten to know your son, and I'm pretty sure I will love them exclusively for the rest of my life. I don't feel sick, I feel favoured!'

George added: 'And I'm pretty sure your parents still feel that way, Paul, they have been together for how long?' Paul thought a moment and replied: 'You have known them longer than I have, but I guess almost forty years.' I added: 'And I'm also convinced that my parents still love one another very much, after thirty years.'

'Can you consider that, father, that loving just one person is just that, another way of loving?' Lukas asked, 'I will always share my love, that is who I am, but I have shared it a lot less since I have become close to Melissa and Paul. They have so much love to give, and it is so familiar, so powerful, that I felt the need to share less strongly. I don't feel unhealthy, being loved with so much intensity makes me feel very strong indeed.'

Hermes was clearly not convinced, but he had shed some thought on the matter, which was a first step. And he had his control back, making him seem less pathetic. He observed: 'All right, so maybe poor Katarina does have some love in her life, but that does not change the fact that she is sowing dissent in my realm, and taking my worshipers away from me, and that the other gods are threatening me for losing control of my own people. What if I am damaged for good, what if my people no longer love me?'

Lukas told his father: 'I feel your pain, father, but I cannot promise you to come with you, I have my own life now and something in me is changing, I need to come to terms with that before I can face what is waiting for me in your world. But I will talk this over with Paul and Melissa, and we will do what we can to help you.'

The thought of Lukas leaving, even voluntarily, made me sick to the stomach. Of course I had no right to claim him, and I wouldn't, but he had a good life here, working his craft and developing his talent with George, having plenty of people to love, and a safe situation to let his changes happen.

In his old world, someone was after him, someone with the power and the malice to weave an involved plot to bring him down. And he didn't have us. Of course he would have his father, and his status would rise because he now had a talent. But who would anchor him, who would give him the love, the power he needed to exercise his talent?

Paul's hand took mine, and clutched it to his chest, and I knew he was also afraid Lukas would leave. It would make some things easier for him, if Lukas were to leave, but I was sure he had grown attached to our loving companion.

George now stepped in, and said: 'Hermes, you have retrieved your memory, and we are all a bit shaken, why don't we go home and talk it over together, let Lukas talk it over with his loved ones, and we'll meet again tomorrow.

I guess those statues will have plenty to tell as well, when I first found out you had set them to spy on us I felt hurt, but after some time I started to understand why you did it. I showed every sign of having been totally taken in, gods tend to do that kind of thing to ordinary people.

And now I'm actually glad, somehow I feel their testimony may turn out to be important, it may convince you that Hermes really has changed.'

I think we all had the grace to look ashamed of ourselves, and Lukas said: 'You are right George, we felt bad about acting without your knowledge or consent, but we didn't trust my father. It was never our intent to hurt you, I hope you will forgive us.'

And Paul asked: 'Please forgive me, George, you've always been like a father to me. I was so afraid to find myself all alone, both people I love taken to a world beyond that portal.'

When Paul said this, I looked at Hermes unobtrusively, and I thought I saw some comprehension dawn on him, a recognition of the love Paul felt for us, and of its depth.

Hermes looked at George with respect and love, and said: 'I feel torn, George. Part of me wants to go back through the portal straight away, and try to save as much as I can of my realm. But some part of me wants to stay with you, safe within your protection, loved, without ambition or politics. I'm still so incredibly tired. Please, do take me home with you, and hold me. Maybe tomorrow will bring new hope.'

Contrary to the hysterics, this quiet plea did move me, I could easily imagine how he must feel, powerless, still hurting, knowing his absence was making the problem he'd hoped to solve worse. George and Hermes indeed left soon after, and we sat together in silence.

Lukas wanted to sit between Paul and me and we made room for him, holding him quietly for what seemed an eternity. Within the safety of our embrace he finally let his tears fall, still in total silence.

I could think of nothing to say or do, what did one say to a man who had spent his youth thinking he was worth nothing to his father and his people, lost them, then found a new life and new talents, and an ability to love beyond his imagination. And then faced choosing between his past and his current life?

'What is happening to you, horny-man?' a voice in my head broke the silence, 'will you not let us look at your mind?' Lukas looked up, dried his eyes, and nestled against us.

'We've had days to study your father, read his thoughts, hear his talks with George, rummage through his memories. He is not as good a person as you, he has done things he's ashamed of now, but his love for you is real and he will not force you to come with him, not even if it costs him everything he used to value, power, adulation, the respect of his peers. But he has no idea what is happening to you, and we can only guess.'

They were clever talkers, those elves, and with a sigh Lukas said out loud: 'Help yourselves.'

He must have removed all the shielding on his mind, for suddenly he projected his feelings, torn so badly they approached despair, but that was just the surface, for below this thin layer of uncertainty, mixed with that incredible need for love from both myself and Paul, was an enormous reservoir of pure love, benevolence, innocence, goodness.

I had not expected anything different, I had been given an insight in Lukas' change last night, but I heard Paul's gasp and the ringing voice said: 'Oh my goodness, dear boy, small wonder you feel torn. You are coming into your own, but in bits and pieces, your Gift is expanding rapidly, but your feelings are still mortal.'

Paul grabbed Lukas in sympathy and shock, and said in a voice coloured with emotion: 'Beloved, better double your shields, before you pick up the hurts and the needs of the whole city and get drained to an empty husk.

Melissa, can you distract him for an hour or so, keep him filled with love and very busy, whilst I check my books how to shield against emotions? Any suggestions, you two?'

This last remark was clearly for the elves, and as Paul immediately jumped up and started to look among his books on magic, I supposed they had proposed a specific volume.

Of course I experienced no hesitation at all to distract Lukas, my hand soon found his curly head, and under the wealth of rough ringlets I felt the bases of his horn-stumps. Scratching them gently still had an immediate effect, and soon Lukas was lying on my lap in ecstasy, forgetting the world around him in rising bliss.

I admonished him: 'Paul said to put up a double shield, love, better do as he says, I can feel your emotions.' In reply, a hand reached for my head, bringing me close enough to kiss me ardently, and with a slightly breathless voice Lukas said afterwards: 'I did what he said, the shield just cannot hold it anymore. Please don't stop, your love feels so good, I need it so much.

Of course I didn't stop, but I did not increase my efforts either, Paul and the elves needed time to find a shield to help Lukas, so I planned to make this last as long as it could, which meant moving really, really slowly.

Since Lukas was still projecting, it was easy to keep him distracted with a minimum of effort, I knew exactly what he was yearning for at which moment, enabling me to give him just enough excitement to keep his mind filled.

In this way, I managed to stick to just touching and kissing him for more than half an hour, until his lust took over and he moved on me, untying the laces of my dress, spilling my breasts in his face, licking them and sucking my nipples intently.

His rising fervour had of course been infecting me steadily, causing me to feel more and more heat in my loins, wanting to feel his hands on me, and his tongue, and ultimately his glorious manhood. This was not working too well, he was picking up my thoughts as much as I was his, and our heat stimulated the other's, touching became groping, our kissing ever more intense.

Lukas looked to where Paul was still searching feverishly, leafing through a book, putting it back, getting another, totally concentrated on his task, oblivious to us. Then he looked at me questioningly, and, knowing he'd pick the thought right out of my head, I concluded Paul would rather have us near than be left alone working.

So Lukas helped me out of my dress right then and there, and I removed his shirt and trousers, and then we got serious about our distraction. Though his ever increasing empathy was very dangerous to Lukas, it also made our love-making very intimate and very intense. Every caress, every touch awakened a longing in one of us, which the other then satisfied at great length, leading to another wish that was granted immediately.

We tried to control ourselves as much as possible, trying to make it last, and with all our needs satisfied one by one, we slowly reached a state of ever increasing satiation. At long last Lukas just couldn't resist his overwhelming urge anymore, he just had to thrust himself into me and start pumping furiously, his usual grin apparent, projecting happy thoughtlessness, just overwhelming love and and an absence of that need that he had been feeling so steadily towards Paul and me the last few days.

For a few minutes, all these longings were gone and only the bliss was left, his and mine, mingled together, our minds merged as much as our bodies. And when it was all over, we laid back, sated, no other feelings between us than satisfaction and intense love.

I secretly checked Lukas' power-level, and it was superb, he was filled to the brim, his total capacity decidedly higher than I remembered. Fortunately his development was not that skewed, this way his rapidly increasing talent would at least offer him a chance to survive.

With little caresses, we kept our attention on one another, until Paul dropped on the sofa on Lukas' other side, wedging him between us once more.

He smiled broadly, so I guessed he had solved the riddle, and he told Lukas: 'I found something that I think will work, let me try it on you, and if it works I'll explain how to build it yourself.'

Touching Lukas' naked skin, stroking his chest and throat softly, his face blanked out and so did Lukas'.

When they came back, Lukas' features relaxed in relief, and suddenly I realized this had been creeping up on him for days, his shields no longer strong enough to stop his ever increasing talent from picking up other people's emotions, draining his power steadily, causing that constant need for our love that I had felt for some days now.

'It works!' Lukas exclaimed, 'I didn't realize how much I was picking up from around me, this is so much better. Thank you so much, all three of you.'

'Just remember us when you come into your own,' the elven voice said with a glad tone. I do think those filthy minded statues really loved him, of course Lukas was the master of love, even though he was not marriage-material he certainly gave those peeping Toms their money's worth.

Lukas thanked Paul with a passionate kiss, sitting on his lap totally naked, still sweaty from our 'distraction', and Paul answered it with relish, eyes closed, hands in Lukas' hair.

'Let's hit the bed,' I proposed, and without clearing up the wineglasses we gathered our clothes and practically ran up the stairs.

But before we could start our lovemaking all over again, Paul had some questions he wanted to ask Lukas. 'Crisis overcome, I'd like to know what you think is happening to you, Lukas.'

Lukas replied: 'I think the elves are right, I'm coming into my own. My talent seems to be growing daily, I think I'm moving towards a destiny of helping people. On my own world, no matter how weird that sounds, I think I would be a god. Be it without worshipers. But on this world, I don't know what I am, a really strong mage? I'm changing too quickly, my empathy is urging me to help relieve suffering wherever I meet it, but my power cannot keep up with my proficiency.

This is what I told my father, I feel a need to go back with him, to help his people, for I have a feeling more is afoot than just my sister stealing his worshipers. I know her, and she is not interested in adulation.

But, I am changing and I cannot handle the consequences on my own, I need your help and support. It is not easy to accept a great destiny, when you've just found a very ordinary one that you're perfectly satisfied with. I dare not go back until I'm sure about what and who I am, and whether my father will let me return to you.

Another part of me wants to stay here, there is so much suffering here, so much needs to be done to improve people's lives, poor people, but rich ones as well.

I need to find answers to my own questions before I can decide. Will you hold me now? Both of you?'

Why did he have to change so much? To me, Lukas had been perfect as he was, impulsive, sweet, innocent. As we held him, I felt a selfish fear to lose the guileless friend I had come to love so much.

'Do you mind growing up, Lukas?' Paul asked, stroking his friend, but holding me as well.

'You are funny, Paul,' Lukas remarked,' growing up. Though I suppose you're right, my father is a god, so in a way I'm just growing up. And yes, I do mind, I was just starting to feel at home somewhere for the first time in my life, and then this happens. But I liked helping people to feel better, and now I will be able to do it more easily and more often. Besides, I can't do anything about it anyway.'

And then he moved his face towards me, until he was close enough to give a sweet little kiss on my lips, and he said: 'I'm sorry love, I didn't mean for this to happen, I was happy as we were, too. But I think I'll still be me most of the time.'

He was still picking up my feelings, but I supposed that couldn't be helped either.

'You will always have a home here, Lukas,' Paul said with feeling, 'let's just try to keep your life as normal as we can. Except maybe you should go help your dad, and we'll come with you. I feel like getting away from the city for a while. What do you think, Melissa?'

That was a surprise, I couldn't imagine Paul away from his lovely home and his workshop, and I said so. Paul said he'd been thinking about it for some time, living without responsibility for a while, concentrating on practising magic.

I could see that the very idea made Lukas very happy, and I couldn't think of a real obstruction, the current projects were nearly finished, the new ones could wait a few months. There was just one possible objection: 'Do you think Hermes can be trusted to treat us with respect and to let Lukas go again?'

Here, the ringing voice provided the answer: 'We vouch for his character, we have seen his every thought, and he can be trusted with his son. What you do need to know Melissa, is that he is still in love with you. We can no longer read your thoughts, but you seem over your crush. He is not, though he hides it well. In his own country, he will be a lot more difficult to resist, he has used the power of his will before to create attachment in women he wanted.'

That wasn't a promising prospect, especially not since I had seen nothing of attachment in his behaviour towards me.

Now it was Paul's turn to face me, intense love in his eyes, he took me in his arms and said: 'It seems you have drawn the attention of no fewer than two gods. How will I ever be able to compete with that, I'm just an ordinary mortal man.'

I felt my heart skip its usual beat at the look in his eyes, reminded myself to keep breathing, but I just couldn't speak. So much love, from the only man I'd really ever wanted in my life so far.

Only after a passionate kiss did I find my voice back, and I whispered: 'You're in no way ordinary. I have loved you since I met you, and nothing can come between me and my love for you. Never.' And as I said that, I knew it was nothing but the solid truth. I hated the thought of Lukas changing or leaving, but losing Paul would surely kill me.

'Oh my love, it makes me so glad to hear that from you,' Paul said huskily, 'I've never wanted anyone else either.'

'All right, that's enough of the soggy stuff,' the ringing voice said, 'time to get to it.'

Which we did, all three of us, without the slightest embarrassment.


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

The next morning it was as if nothing had happened, Lukas woke me when he went for his morning run, not projecting anything, looking fine. We kissed, and he left.

I snuggled against Paul, as I did every morning after Lukas left, and when he woke up we made love in our usual, lazy way.

He asked me: 'How do you feel about going to Lukas' home world now?'

Lying against him contentedly, I couldn't imagine anything coming between us, and I replied: 'I'm actually quite curious about his world. Do you think it would be dangerous? To go through the portal, through that demon world, then to Lukas' world, ruled by gods, with someone targeting Lukas?'

'It might be dangerous, but not more dangerous than cycling through the city by yourself,' Paul was getting reckless, he must really be eager for a holiday. 'That is why I want to go together, I'm afraid he'll go by himself if we don't. He'd go around healing people without us.'

'You're not afraid Hermes will seduce me into his harem?' I asked.

Paul replied nonchalantly: 'I'm not. He had George here, but he's actually a ladies-man. All the women at the Nomes' are family, children or servants, I'm not surprised he wants you, you're beautiful, talented, young, and not taboo according to his moral standard. Back home he'll have droves of young women falling at his feet again. Why lust for one that is taken?'

I didn't worry either: 'He'll be off most of the time anyway, doing his duties to the other gods, I seem to remember from the sagas that he is a really busy god, bearing messages, guiding dead people to the afterlife.'

'All right, let's see what Lukas decides then,' Paul observed, 'I'll talk to my parents about someone taking over from me for a few months. And we should talk to Tristan and George, maybe your dad as well, see what they know about travel through dimensions.'

And so we decided that if Lukas wanted to help his father, we'd go with him.

Decision made, we had breakfast and went to work, and soon Lukas joined us in the workshop, silent, not projecting anymore. He went straight to work, and put his heart and soul in his task, his pleasure in his work visible even in his extreme concentration.

Within a few hours we had finished our designated tasks for the day, and we started on the new projects, studying the drawings, discussing the calculations. I had made four, one of which I already knew was totally impossible, even drawing it had been a challenge with the results of my calculations different each time.

I managed to convince Paul almost immediately that I was right, and he took it well, tickled to have the drawing and the numbers as proof, making a prototype would have taken him a week, and it actually would have been quite dangerous to test, involving high pressure steam with a distinct risk of an explosion.

Of the next three, two were plausible, and the last one seemed impossible to realize to me, but Paul really wanted to try, and since he was going to spend the time making the prototype, I looked forward to seeing who would turn out to be right. It never hurt to put one's skills to the test, not Paul's, nor mine.

That done, we had lunch, and prepared to cycle to the Nomes', to speak to Hermes again, but Paul and me also had a secret agenda, talking to George about travelling through dimensions and about ancient Greece, and hopefully finding Tristan present to discuss the same matters.

We did not want to influence Lukas in his decision, and making preparations might make him feel obliged to help his father, something we most certainly didn't want to happen.

Cycling past the wasteland, it already looked much better, both to normal vision and to sight.

The sickly phosphorescence was gone completely, and some of the worst trash had already been cleared away.

There seemed to be fewer gulls and pigeons there, could it be that people from the neighbourhood had been leaving food out for the rejected children, which attracted scavengers when they were gone, and now the absence of the children had been noted and food was no longer left?

I would ask Jonathan as soon as he returned, it would be quite something if the factory workers had noticed those poor children and taken pity on them from their own meagre resources.

The path between the two neighbourhoods showed signs of more intense use already, there were no potholes yet, but the grass was trampled, and we could see people walking across.

The factory was not in use, but the chimney was being replaced by a taller one, so I guessed it would not take long before it was brought back to life. Apparently George had not been totally preoccupied by Hermes, he had found time to arrange the future of the plant and the workers who depended on it. Or someone else might have bought it, but I didn't think so.

Lukas was still quiet, and Paul wasn't any livelier. They were probably both thinking hard about the choices they had to make, whilst I had recently chosen to give up my job with the council, and was now more or less free to take some time off. Paul of course wasn't at all free, he'd have to talk really fast to get out of his duties for a few months.

That reminded me, what would we do for money if we were to go to ancient Greece? We'd have to think of that before we left, it wouldn't do to depend on Hermes for our maintenance, that would give him way too much power over us.

Occupied with our own thoughts, we reached the estate quickly, and soon rode on the shaded lane towards the house.

Frances was very pleased to see us, and we had coffee with the family, exchanging the news on Lucy, and the two-headed puppy, Jonathan's stay with his parents, even the factory was discussed at great length.

But of course the most important matter was whether Hermes was in any state to return to his own world, and whether Lukas cared to go with him, but neither was forthcoming, drinking coffee and eating pie. Hermes did not look as distraught as yesterday, apparently George had managed to talk him into acceptance.

When Tristan dropped by for his share of the coffee, Paul asked him and George to talk privately for a few minutes. They left together for the garden in front of the greenhouse, and I stayed back with Lukas and Ilsa, the latter telling us she was going to assist her father in running the factory, and going to study with a private tutor, taking classes in subjects she felt she needed more knowledge on.

Hermes joined our little group, but he didn't say much, and neither did his son, until Lukas offered to check his father's state of health as soon as Paul returned to anchor us. This pleased Hermes, and he managed a sweet smile. Lukas asked: 'When do you plan to return, as soon as the shields are off and you can bear a full charge of power again? And how are you going to pass those creatures that live where the portal comes out, can you sneak by them? How do you get back to your realm from there, another portal?'

Now Hermes laughed out loud at so many questions at once, and he replied: 'Frankly my son, I don't know when I dare return. There would be little use in hurrying back and landing amongst those creatures in agony, for I was indeed planning to evade them if possible. I have studied their habits, and they use that place only when they have prisoners.

To go from their world to ours it takes a simple spell, I'll write it down for you, should you ever wish to visit. You can use it now easily, you have plenty of magic for it. The spell places the caster in the cellar of the villa, you know it well. It is not a spell that requires a lot of power, most of the power required is stored in the patterns of the mosaic floor, and I have that charged at all times.

As long as my body can handle the power that will flow into me once I set foot in the demon world, I'm fine.'

This seemed to please Lukas, of course he didn't want his father to fall prey to his former captors, though Hermes would have no trouble subduing them if he was able to use his powers as a god.

Hermes continued: 'And then when I'm home, I'll have to think of what to do, I guess I'll have to find out how bad things are, and work from there. Of course I'm the faster than anyone, and I can be virtually invisible, so I can gather information quickly. My greatest fear is, that my powers are damaged, or my speed.'

Lukas now said seriously: 'Father, have you considered that whoever made me disappear, might have done that to damage your reputation? What reason could they have to try to discredit me so totally, I was nothing. Someone may be after you, they might try to hurt you personally.'

Shaking his head, Hermes observed: 'I have no idea why someone would want to hurt you, most people like you. But if they wanted to hurt me, making it seem as if you wanted to leave was not sensible, and paying those creatures to keep you alive was also weird. Why not just dump you in a hole somewhere? Do you think they wanted you to live and escape to an unknown world? Never to be seen or heard of again? Why?'

If Paul, George and Tristan hadn't returned, we could have broken our heads over these questions for hours, but they did return, and joined us immediately.

With an encouraging smile, George asked: 'Do you want to see if we can take off the shields, Hermes?' He nodded, and Paul and me sat on both sides of Lukas, linked to his mind, and touching his father he set his talent to work.

His talent had grown a lot, the detail of what we saw was incredible, and the power was not drained from Lukas as fast as it used to. With a feeling of triumph, Lukas moved around freely, zooming in on his father's nerves, finding them as good as new, even in the very tips.

We decided to stay in whilst the men removed the shields, it was easy to relay the message to Paul. The result was spectacular, we heard nothing and saw nothing happening outside Hermes' body, but suddenly the green trickle of power started diffusing into his body, filling up the pockets used to contain power at a steady rate.

The nerves took this onslaught without change, it really seemed as if the damage had healed, so we went back into the now, to see how things were there.

This time, Lukas didn't faint, and suddenly I realized I had not fed him any power at all, he had used much less, and he had much more power himself. It appeared that Lukas didn't need help anymore for a simple procedure like this.

When I looked at him, he did have a fire in his eyes, a promise of some rough loving, but it was not very urgent. His father caught our exchange of looks, and for a second I thought I saw a flash of desire cross his beautiful features, but that may have been my imagination, I mean I was looking for it because of what those elves said.

Still, it didn't matter to me, my infatuation had been cured by our master healer and lover, and in all honesty, my Victorian common sense.

Checking out his father intently, Lukas asked: 'How do you feel, any pain? Do you feel the power, is it any different from what you were used to?'

Slowly, a smile lit Hermes' face, and he replied: 'I feel great, no pain, and the power feels fabulous, heady even. I feel like I can take on the world, my worries are fading fast. And that is just with my personal power restored partly, I'm not even back to godhood yet. Thank you so much, Lukas, after all I threatened you with, you found it in you to forgive me and restore me to what I was. Can I check something?'

And with those words, he blurred and was gone, only to return a second later, still in a blur, until he stood before us again, breathing slightly heavy. His face was a study in boyish happiness. He fell on Lukas' neck, hugging him intently and laughing out loud.

'I have it back, I have my speed back. No stamina of course, but that'll be back soon enough. Now I'm no longer afraid to return home,' and looking straight at Lukas, 'though I still wish you'd come with me. Just a few weeks, to find out why Katarina turned on me. You're a real diplomat, she'd talk to you. But it's your choice, I'm not going to put any pressure on you. I love you and I want you to be happy, I can see now that you are loved, in the ways of this world. Maybe Katarina was right, maybe this kind of love is more suited to your nature, you give so much love, maybe you need steady love to keep it up. She would be so proud to see you with this magnificent strong Gift, it would make both her and her mother so happy.'

Did I imagine it, or did Lukas look decidedly guilty at this last remark? Very briefly, a fleeting look? Was Katarina's mother one of his father's wives that he had slept with?'

I controlled my curiosity, it wouldn't do to alert Hermes to his son's guilty looks, but I was going to ask.

Now I got one of those bear-hugs too, Hermes was incredibly happy, and so was I, to find my body not responding to the touch of his sleek shape against mine. I didn't see any reaction in him either, being healed he was clearly looking forward to all the willing girls he would have at his disposal soon, he didn't need my attentions anymore. Excellent!

'Go for a short run, father,' Lukas encouraged his dad, 'enjoy the green of this climate whilst you are still here, feel the air filling your lungs.' He was clearly remembering his own first run, after months of confinement, and his father took his advice, not blurring this time, clearly taking it easy on himself, but still moving faster than anything I'd ever seen.

As soon as he was off, Lukas faced Paul and me, and told us: 'Melissa, Paul, I need to go to my home-world, will you please come with me? If I don't stop Katarina, my father will hurt her, or one of the other gods will. And I feel responsible for her.' Looking around if his father was returning, he blurted out: 'She's not my sister, I think she's my daughter.'

I was speechless, but Paul rose to the occasion and took us with him to that little grassy glade where we had made love after healing Lucy.

As we were walking there, Lukas seemed to get smaller and smaller, projecting guilt and shame quite clearly. 'You're leaking again, Lukas,' Paul said dryly, 'do you want your father to pick up your feelings?'

The steady stream of emotions stopped abruptly, as if a door was slammed shut on them. Lukas looked up at Paul and I could see hope replacing the guilt: 'You're not mad at me then?' he asked in obvious relief.

'Why should I be mad at you?' Paul asked matter-of-factly, 'for having sinned in your youth, or for wanting to take responsibility for your deed? Come on, Lukas, Katarina is what age? Twenty-five? And you were there when she grew up? What could I possibly be mad about?'

'She's near thirty, she was born two years after her mother allowed me to move in with her, and I lived with them until my father forced me to move to Dionysus' court, when I was twenty-seven. And then I'd come back every time I could.

Katarina's mother, Ophelie, shared her love with me only once in all those years, and from that union Katarina was born. My father left her on her own most of the time, only visiting now and then, and she was often lonely, but after that one time she never allowed me in her bed anymore. In my disappointment I shared my love with everyone willing, woman or man, young or old, but I always came back to Ophelie.

Whenever my father visited, I took Katarina on a long walk, he never stayed long and he never asked to see either of us. He had a lot of wives, and a lot of lovers besides, and a lot of children. Ophelie never had another child besides Katarina.'

So now it was decided, we would go to ancient Greece with Lukas, and help him to try and calm down a hornet's nest that someone had lobbed a stone into. It is not that I didn't want to be afraid, the situation was just so outrageous that I didn't manage to fear for Paul and myself, I just feared for Lukas, sure this was just the tip of the iceberg of trouble he had made for himself, hoping that if he went in, he would be able to come out again, preferably in one piece.

A tentative touch on both sides roused me from my musings, and as I looked up I saw Lukas sitting on my one side, and Paul on the other. They both put an arm around me and Paul said: 'It'll all be fine, you'll see. George and Tristan said that a lot of mages travel between dimensions, and that they can make a safeguard for us to ensure we can always return. It will take two weeks, so if Hermes is not willing to wait for us, he'll have to come and pick us up later.'

'If you're afraid to come, love, I can go alone,' Lukas said, though it was clear that the very idea frightened him out of his wits, which only made my fear for him worse.

'Why does that thought scare you so much, Lukas?' I asked, 'what is it? What is out there, waiting to get you? That is what is frightening me, you're making me afraid you're marching to a certain doom knowingly, as if to do penance.'

'I'm sorry I've given the wrong impression love,' Lukas replied, 'that is not how it feels to me. As long as you're with me I'm not afraid, you will keep me sane and on the right track. But if I were to go alone, I fear being overwhelmed by my own Gift, forcing me to heal everyone who is even slightly unhappy or unwell, exhausting my body and my spirit, leading me astray from the purpose of my visit, chaining me to a dreary existence in my old world.

It just feels wrong to me to do such a radical thing as move to another world when I'm changing so fast myself, but I can't not make an effort to save Katarina.'

'Let us tell your father we will be ready to accompany him in two weeks, and then go home to dress for our visit to my parents. I'll arrange a leave from my duties via them, and we'll visit your family somewhere this week, Melissa, maybe your father can help Lukas a little further, I have a feeling he has known all along something profound was about to happen to him. Are you less worried now, love?' This last was meant for me, and indeed I was easier now Lukas had explained it was really only the change in his talent that frightened him so much.

I nodded, though visiting Paul's parents worried me quite as much as the idea of travelling between dimensions did. But neither could be helped, and both would probably be really interesting.

It was quite a trip to cycle to Paul's parents' house, but it was worth the effort, for this part of the city was beautiful and reasonably clean, and the weather was still fine.

Lukas was pleased to have his own bicycle, he could easily match our speed walking fast, but it was nicer to all cycle together, and we were getting used to people staring anyway.

My misgivings about going to such a grand house with upper-class people were by no means laid to rest, I felt quite at home at the Nomes' manor now, but it was very clear that they were not your usual noble family.

I was sure everyone would see my common birth straight away, my manners were working-class, and though I knew I was beautiful, I also knew it was in a healthy, earthy way.

My dresses were probably years out of date, and cycling in the city had gotten me as healthy a colour as a person of my complexion could obtain.

I was desperately afraid to make an unrefined impression on Paul's family, especially since both Paul and Lukas had such exquisite manners. As we reached the house and put away our bicycles in the stable area, I looked around me at the grandeur of the ancient family home and wanted to go right back to our own familiar place.

The house was huge, built entirely out of white chalk, in a rather severe style with little ornamentation.

The stables were at the back of the house, and were only accessible from a back street, so I had not seen the front of it yet, but the back was grand enough to totally overwhelm me, and I tried to hide behind Paul and Lukas as we walked towards the back entrance.

It was elaborate enough to be the front of the house, I thought, but of course the master of the house would use this entrance more often than the front, alighting from his carriage or horse, so it could not be hidden away, it needed to have some style.

The building was not free-standing, and it had no extensive grounds around it, but I was a city girl and to me it was huge, and the garden behind it was as large as some of the parks I had visited, and much more elaborately designed.

I longed to explore that garden, and see the place where the glasshouse was planned, but that was not to be, first I had to meet Paul's parents in their natural habitat, and his sister. I think the guys had noticed my reticence by now, for Paul said teasingly: 'Dearest, you're supposed to make a grand entrance on my arm, you're part of the Kenwick family after all.'

And Lukas took both my hands, turned me to face him and looked at me intently: 'You're really nervous about this, aren't you?'

I blurted out: 'Of course I am, you've both seen my parents' house and neighbourhood, I look like a commoner and I feel like a commoner, big and fat and clumsy.' I was getting seriously upset by now, the guys just didn't understand, all this was as common as breathing to them, and they had left it behind them without a second thought, they couldn't care less about grandeur.

Lukas released my hands, and put an arm around me, saying: 'Don't worry, they're just people like you and me, they can't build their own glasshouse, and you can. You're always so independent, please stay true to yourself.'

And Paul took my arm on my other side, and said: 'Dearest, Lukas is right, I haven't chosen my own family, I was born to them. Just stick with me, I'll get you through it.'

And he kissed me lovingly and appropriately on my cheek. Lukas didn't kiss me at all, aware of all the proprieties of our society, he just winked at me with love in his eyes, and followed Paul and me into the house, where an immaculately dressed butler was waiting to take us into the house to Paul's parents for tea.

Seeing Paul's parents and meeting his sister did nothing to make me feel less common, for they were all as trim-figured as Paul and dressed immaculately, though rather dully. I must admit though, that Paul's parents were not condescending towards me, had never been actually, and his sister was friendly in a self-possessed way. The difference in class was really something only I seemed to feel.

I did stay close to Paul, talking first to his mother and father, telling them all about solving the disappearance of the dryads, discovering them during a search, finding out that their souls had been taken by photography, freeing the faeries and the children. They had heard from Frances that their son had been shot, and they were shocked to hear how bad it had been. Even just talking about that horrible night I still felt the fear and the despair, until a strong hand found mine and squeezed it gently to remind me all had ended well.

Then we continued to Lukas' healing of the rejected children and the destruction of the false node. Paul told them about his admiration for Tristan's subtlety, and his consequent wish to learn that for himself.

Lukas meanwhile was in deep conversation with Paul's sister, he had seemed pulled towards her from the first introduction. Lukas had such easy manners, but still acted so appropriately, that soon no-one gave a second glance to the young man sitting with an unmarried young lady. I had the impression that they were not talking about enjoyable things, though, Lukas seemed much more serious than usual and Paul's sister was almost sad.

Although I had not planned to get married myself, and Paul's sister was probably not that much older than me, I couldn't help but wonder why she was still unmarried and living with her parents. Somehow I clearly thought that high-born girls should marry before they moved out. I couldn't ask without being badly mannered, but after some time tea was served, and I came to sit next to her, and I soon learned more.

Sofia was twenty-three, and though she was tall, she was not as pretty as her brother was handsome. But maybe it was just that he dressed differently, more casually, her dress and the way her hair was styled were more suited to a much older person, the colour washing her out totally, the style making her seem emaciated and flat-chested, and combined with a certain melancholy air she did not seem particularly good company.

But there I was wrong, she soon turned out to be very intelligent, and very well-read. It was really nice to talk to her, she remembered Paul as a really young boy, though her going to school and him being fostered at the Nomes' had separated them in later years.

The weird thing was, that though she was of the highest possible class, with twenty thousand pounds to her name, I felt kind of sorry for her, for I guessed her life must be very boring, with not many prospects of it ever getting more interesting.

The reason for her not being married turned out to be linked to her class and money, as she told me: 'I'm rich and I have the best family-connections, but I don't really want to give up my whole life for a man. I have had suitors, but I could never be sure of their affection, I always suspected they were courting me for my money and my name, and the older and more experienced I get, the more I am convinced that I wasn't wrong.'

I did not have anything consoling to say to her, I had no clue how their world functioned, the reason I was here at all was that her very own brother had thrown off his chains and taken his life in his own hands.

But I could imagine that would be even more difficult for a girl, I had had my share of trouble finding my place in a man's world, and my family had supported me all the way.

Sofia wanted to know all about my studies and my current job, and I was pleased to tell her. She said: 'Since I didn't have enough magical talent to follow in my parents' footsteps, my only career option is marriage. I may congratulate myself that my parents are enlightened enough that they are not willing to sell me to the highest bidder, or I'd already be producing high-born children for a nobleman who keeps a wife for her connections and finds his love elsewhere.

What I would really like to do is to study music and become a performer, or maybe a music teacher. I love playing, and I think I'm quite good at it.'

I must admit I had not expected to find Paul's family so nice and unassuming, the conversation was stimulating, the food was astonishing, and time flew.

After tea, we went outside to look at the site where the glasshouse was to be built. Sofia came with us, talking to Lukas again.

Soon Paul and me were discussing the plans of the building and Mr Jones' offer on the frame with his parents, and after half an hour we had reached the conclusion that it would be possible to build a glasshouse in this spot for the price Paul's parents had in mind.

But when we wanted to go inside for some music, Sofia and Lukas were nowhere to be seen. Since Sofia was Paul's sister, her honour was his business as well, but he didn't seem very worried about it. He suggested we take a tour of the garden, see if they were back by the time we were done, and his parents agreed.

The garden was lovely, very well kept, more formal than Frances' gardens, but of course Frances was an artist, the Kenwick's gardener was merely very able. A greenhouse would look very well in the spot designated for it, and it would be a welcome addition to the garden in the winter, if one could afford it.


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

By the time we were back at the house, Sofia and Lukas were not outside, but of course there was little reason for them to wait for us outside when we weren't in sight. We went in, and when we came into the drawing room, Sofia was sitting at the piano and Lukas was standing beside it, listening to her playing.

She was very good, and when her song was ended she said: 'Sorry we disappeared, but I wanted to ride a bicycle very much so Lukas showed me. it's much easier than it seems.' She was actually laughing, the first time I had heard her laugh.

I checked Paul's expression to see if he was scandalized by his sister riding a bicycle, and I was relieved to see he actually pleased with her evident enjoyment of the exercise. I would have hated to find him a hypocrite.

Sofia now asked me: 'Do you play, Melissa? Lukas already told me he doesn't.'

I had to admit I didn't play an instrument, I had always been too busy studying to learn.

'Too bad, and Paul doesn't play either,' she said, 'but he can sing a duet with me, he has a lovely voice.'

And immediately she launched into a beautiful song, she had a lovely soprano voice, and her skills on the instrument were impressive. Halfway through the song, her soprano was suddenly accompanied by a baritone second voice, and looking to my left I indeed saw a whole new side to my husband, singing a heart-rending Italian song with total abandonment.

Of course I had not ever heard really good singing or playing, either in a home environment or at a concert, but I thought this was good enough for any concert I'd visited.

When the song was ended, Paul looked at me in triumph, and I had no trouble acknowledging his fabulous performance. His parents were really affected by their two youngest children singing together, it had been a very long time since they had been privileged to hear their son sing.

We all begged for more, and they soon found another piece they both knew, and this time, Paul started the singing, and hearing him solo stirred my feelings quite a bit, I realized that his voice was naturally suited to expressing deep feelings, even if his character might not be. After one verse, Sofia's voice joined his in the refrain, and the next verse was hers alone. I discovered I enjoyed the music very much, the feelings the songs conveyed seemed so real, and I was a bit disappointed when it was done.

Paul thanked Sofia for her accompaniment, and asked his father: 'Do you still sing, father?' He didn't give a clear answer, but Sofia observed: 'He does, as well as you, Paul, and I think you may remember his favourite, though it has been a long time since you sang together.'

She rummaged through a pile of sheet music, removed one set and showed it to her father, then put it on the stand of the piano.

When she started on the intro, it was clear both men recognized it, and she said: 'If you recognize the song, feel free to join in.' She repeated the intro, and launched in a haunting melody in a minor key, still totally instrumental, but speaking volumes nonetheless.

And when I was totally immersed in the feeling of the music, her father started singing English words along with it, his voice as smooth as her playing, the lyrics telling a tale of woe, of a man plagued by misfortune. It was capital.

After the first verse, the refrain followed, and not surprisingly, the song didn't get any cheerier, the singer detailing how he lost his siblings to famine, then his parents to disease.

Now the second verse started, and Paul joined his father in a slightly higher second voice to the melody, harmonizing perfectly, brightening the atmosphere of the song a teeny bit. And indeed the lyrics mentioned a lover, making life bearable again.

But of course it couldn't last, after the second refrain they started on the third verse together, again in perfect harmony but Paul's part lower than his father's, and indeed, the lover betrayed the singer and left him dying of a wasting disease.

The last refrain brought tears to my eyes, I had never heard music like this before, I experienced it instead of just listening to it, and the fact that the performers were people I knew made it all the more powerful.

When the last notes died away, Lukas, Paul's mother and I applauded energetically, and I'm sure my face showed my state of mind.

And indeed, after giving us a flourishing bow, Paul took me in his arms and whispered in my ear: 'So now I know how to make you cry, beloved. Next time I sing for you I'll make you smile.'

And then he kissed me, chastely, for we were in company, but it gave me a thrill nonetheless.

Sofia now looked at Lukas once, pointedly, then left the room. It was not yet time for dinner, and we all sat down in the drawing room for some more talking. Paul of course wanted to discuss a few months' absence with his parents, and this was the ideal moment.

He said: 'Mother, father, you know I am planning to practice magic once more, I might do a testing in about half a year from now.' They both looked very happy again, and nodded their acknowledgement.

'I have had an invitation from Lukas' father to visit his country for a few months, to gain experience in working magic. They don't have any innovations there, they do everything with magic, openly, and I would like to take him up on his offer to be able to learn as much as I can.'

His father observed: 'And you want us to arrange a replacement for your quarter for that time?' This time, Paul nodded and replied: 'Yes please.'

'But darling, are you sure you can trust that man, he did offer some nasty threats to your friend here.' Paul's mother sounded rather worried, and of course she was right to be. Paul tried to appease her, by saying: 'Having been brought down to human frailty has taught Hermes a lot about compassion, and we are certain he will not offer us any harm. We have set spies on him, two elven marriage statues, and they assure us that his change of heart is genuine. They can read thoughts, you know.'

Apparently they had heard of statues like that, for they seemed more at ease about the whole idea. Paul's father now offered: 'I think it is a capital idea, no-one in our community has ever had the chance to learn magic in a society where it is openly practised, and I think your should go. I'll arrange things with the council. When do you plan to leave?'

'In about two weeks, George and council member Telling are preparing certain safety-measures for us, and as soon as they are ready, and I have a replacement, we will go.' Paul started to show some excitement now, he clearly looked forward to going somewhere far away from the city.

That arranged, it was very clear to me that Lukas had something on his mind, and was only waiting for the right moment to spill it.

And that moment had arrived as soon as Paul and his father had arranged all the details for their trip to ancient Greece. Lukas looked at Paul's father and mother, and at Paul himself, and he said: 'Sir and Lady Kenwick, have you noticed that your daughter is very unhappy, so unhappy that her depression is on the verge of taking over her life? Her need pulled me in the moment I set eyes on her.'

This caused several moments of deep silence. Then her mother admitted: 'I have noticed she lacks spirit, yes, and she never goes out with friends.'

Lukas looked serious: 'It is much worse than that, Lady Kenwick, Sofia sees her life as totally useless, being without magic in a family where talent is everything, and a girl among boys, unable to do anything but be pretty and accomplished.

She is as smart as any of her brothers, and she wants to do something with her life, like you do, not just get married and breed heirs. She still finds solace and a little challenge in music, but I suspect that within half a year melancholy will have her in its grip.'

'Like Ilsa? Frances told me about her. But she was hopelessly in love, Sofia isn't in hopelessly in love with someone who cannot return her affection.' Lady Kenwick believed Lukas, but she was not yet ready to accept that her daughter was in such dire straits.

'But she is hopeless. It is my talent to feel people's needs, and Sofia has a serious mental affliction that she has been keeping from both of you to spare your feelings. It is taking over her life and she knows it, but she can no longer resist it. She needs help.'

Lukas really had changed, he spoke with great authority, though also with great feeling.

'Frances told us you cured Ilsa, and nearly died in the process.' Good, Lady Kenwick had accepted Lukas' expertise, and was ready to move on to the next step.

With a graceful bow, Lukas replied: 'Indeed I did, heal Ilsa and nearly die of the cost of the healing. But that was also my talent awakening, I'm used to healing now and no longer in danger. I can heal your daughter of the melancholy that has her in its grip. But there are two things you need to consider before you agree to let me help. Sofia already knows, we have discussed both and she accepts them. But you are her parents and in this world, you have more power over her life than she has herself.'

That was something I knew a lot about, having escaped that fate with hard work and understanding parents.

Paul's parents looked at one another, hopefully realizing that not having any power over her own future was exactly what had caused Sofia's problem in the first place.

Lady Kenwick spoke first: 'Please tell us, Mr Hermeides.'

'The first consideration is, that Sofia needs a purpose in her life, or her melancholy will come right back. She cannot sit here and wait for an eligible suitor to come by, she needs to exert herself, use her mind, find her skills. She wants to study music and become a performer, or maybe a teacher. In short, she needs to find herself an occupation.

The second consideration, and I don't know if Frances has told you about this when she mentioned my curing Ilsa, is something that may deter you from letting me heal your daughter. My talent is fuelled by love, and healing melancholy is a very intimate process. That means that somewhere during the treatment it may very well be that we will end up making love to one another, something I know your society does not approve of.'

Now, Paul's father spoke: 'And Sofia knows this?'

'She does, and she accepts it. She also knows it will only be that one time, I do not love exclusively, my love cannot be claimed by one person.'

And then Paul's parents forced me to eat all my prejudices against their class, for they did not object at all, provided it was what Sofia wanted. But they did want to hear that from herself, so they went to her room together to ask her.

With just the three of us left, Paul pleaded: 'Lukas, can't you just treat her with one of us feeding you power? What if your talent drains you again? What if you are pulled into her despair?'

Touched by his worries, Lukas nonetheless answered: 'This is different Paul, those children hurt from forces outside themselves, Sofia's problem is much more intimate, her own feelings brought her down and she cannot face them with other people present. It has to be just me, and since her problems are connected to how she sees herself, love for herself is a main component of the treatment, and I'm afraid that is inextricably linked to physical loving.

I think my talent is tailored to my own society, where physical loving is just another way of loving, not such a big, formal thing with traditions and taboos all over it. Making love to an unmarried girl who is also your sister is the problem here, I think, for my talent has grown enough that I am reasonably certain I can handle the cost of the healing by myself.'

'Can you really?' I think Paul couldn't believe it, and neither could I, for healing melancholy was pretty profound, and the cost would be very high.

Only yesterday, Lukas' developing talent had been bypassing his shields, burdening him with the feelings of people all over the city, draining him without him even noticing, causing him to project need to both Paul and me.

'Maybe Melissa can keep an eye on me from a different room?' Lukas was not going to ask Paul to experience him making love to his own sister. 'I may need the power, but I think we can do without an anchor for once.'

I could live with that, and Paul nodded, I think he realized it would be better if he were not involved at all, and it was not likely his sister had ever been through an abomination like the one Lucy had experienced, which had caused Lukas to lose his way in her memories.

'Then there is only one more thing for us to discuss,' Lukas said, 'will anything change between us if I were to make love to your sister without any intention of marrying her?'

Paul proved he didn't care about propriety by wrapping Lukas in his arms there and then, and kissing him full on the mouth ardently. 'Is that enough answer, beloved, or do you need words?' Paul sounded positively husky.

Lukas didn't, as soon as he had his breath back and stood solidly on his legs once more, a smile lighted up his cute face, and he said: 'I'm glad, for not helping people is getting more difficult every day.'

Now Paul's family returned to the drawing-room, Sofia included, who gazed at Lukas hungrily, looking forward to making love to him I guessed, which I could imagine since he was good looking and clearly very sweet.

Her parents showed their respect for her once again, by not speaking for her. She said: 'I've talked it over with my parents, Lukas, what I've been feeling for such a long time now, and what you told me you can do for me, and they agree to let us be together for as long as we need. Will you do it before dinner?'

Lukas nodded seriously, then he sent her a dazzling smile, and offered her his hand, which she took. There was no way that she was not going to be loved by him, I could see that in her very air, and why should she, she was twenty-three, high time to know what men and women did in the privacy of their own chambers.

When they had left the room, Paul told his mother, who was close to tears: 'Don't worry, he will be able to help her, and he is sweet and very honest'

'I'm not worried,' his mother replied, 'Frances told me enough to trust him completely. I just cannot forgive myself for not seeing how bad she was. We see each other daily, why didn't she talk to me?'

'Father, Melissa is going to monitor Lukas, we don't entirely trust him yet with a healing as profound as this, it may yet drain him, can you show her a room next to Sofia's? I'll talk to mother for a while, then check on Melissa.'

I was shown a nice room with a comfortable bed, and I sat on it and tried to reach Lukas' mind, finding him without any problem.

I offered contact straight away, and he accepted it, though of course he was not ready to activate his talent yet, this was a shy virgin, she would need a loving introduction. Remembering our own first time, with Lukas in so much need that he didn't take a lot of time for tenderness first, I felt his reaction instantly, the valuable memory still as vivid as the day it happened.

After this, I tried to be as unobtrusive as I could, giving Lukas a chance to do his job without constant reminders I was there.

Sofia was very shy now, and very insecure about her body. She had the opposite doubts I had always had about my size, instead of being very well padded, she was rather skinny, her shape boyish, with tiny breasts.

Lukas sat next to her on the bed and said: 'I'm not striving to make love to you, Sofia. I will touch your arm or shoulder and release my talent, which will then address your hurts, releasing your memories or doubts, whatever causes the pain.

We will then work on it together, laying it to rest, so you will remember it but not feel it as acutely. Somewhere in that process you may find yourself eager to touch me, or be touched. We will follow those leads, but our main goal is to address your pain. Are you ready?' She nodded, and he touched her bare arm in a loving gesture.

Immediately, her despair came rushing in, her insecurities about her looks, but especially about the use of her being on this earth. She was very smart and had gained a lot of accomplishments, but none of them were of any use to her.

Her days just came and went, and she didn't have anything to do in them but dress nicely and do something useless.

She wanted to make a difference in the world, but she didn't have enough magic and learning a profession hadn't even occurred to her. Girls of her class just didn't. So she waited for the right man to marry and raise a brood of children, but none came that were worth considering. And the years went by and she got more and more lonely, and more and more depressed.

Her body did ache for the touch of someone, preferably a handsome man, but the chances of that ever happening became slimmer and slimmer. She held on frantically to her propriety and her manners, but inside she lost all hope, feeling guilty for being part of a privileged class and still desperately unhappy.

Lukas didn't even have to think of a solution for her problem, she already knew what she wanted, she just needed to find the energy to fulfil her dreams, to develop her musical skills and use them to brighten up other people's lives, not necessarily rich people, but maybe children like the ones that Tristan wanted to teach in his new school.

As he wore away at her despondent feelings, and her doubts at the use of being alive, he showed her the fun she might have, gave her a taste of the enjoyment of one of those polka-dances, and of cycling in the sun, and of sharing her knowledge with children with intelligence, but without means to go to a good school.

She reacted positively to this, and after some time and a much smaller power drain from Lukas than I expected, she felt reasonably secure that she might find a future in music, or in learning how to teach. Then there were only the doubts about her person, would she find a partner to dance with, would someone ever be able to love her, a flat-chested, skinny woman like her, already twenty-three years old.

This was a moment for a first touch, and Lukas stroked her hair, and her face, causing her to shiver in anticipation. She was counting on finally getting together with a man, and Lukas was not going to disappoint her.

I could feel a little heat rising in our friend, but he still kept it down easily, not to scare this untouched girl. He kissed her, and got a flash of desire from her, a burning sensation between her legs that she had experienced before, but not as strongly as this.

He continued his kiss, until she answered it with fervour, and touched him in return. She put a hand under his shirt, and felt his chest, narrow but muscular, and now she became aware of his musky scent.

It had been there all the time of course, but it was comforting, and with his heat rising it became stronger and more stimulating. She was very relaxed by now, and not at all insecure about her body anymore.

She wanted Lukas to touch it, and she wanted to touch him, explore his unknown maleness.

Unbuttoning his shirt, she soon had him bare-chested, and she fondled his mottled skin and his muscled arms. The feeling of his flesh gave her such a thrill, to be finally touching one of the opposite sex, she had been aching for this for so long.

Stroking his chin now, and his jaw, she licked his deeply dented lip, wanting to be kissed again. As they kissed the burning between her legs increased even more, and she ran her hands through his curly hair. And encountered his horn stumps.

Thrilled, for he had warned her of his inhuman attributes, she felt them all the way down, and as she touched the base she remembered he liked to have them scratched, so she did.

This sent a really strong flash of ardour right through him, and he nearly lost control. He said: 'Better wait a bit with those, I want to take it slowly or I might hurt you your first time. I'll tell you when to touch them.' She nodded, and kissed him again.

I tried not to enjoy this too much, I didn't want to be caught spying after all, but experiencing Lukas' heat rising first-hand was incredibly enticing. There was no danger at all that he would be lost inside her mind, and frankly, he was not going to lose any more power over this healing, on the contrary, from this moment on he was only going to gain power.

Healing had become a lot safer for Lukas, and I guessed that would only improve in the future, he could probably handle a lot of cases on his own already.

I decided to give the two their privacy, and projected a discrete 'see you at dinner' through the connection, then broke it.

Sitting on the bed alone, I experienced quite a bit of heat, but I supposed I would get plenty of opportunity to get rid of that later in the evening, so I suppressed it and went back to the drawing-room, chatting with Paul and his parents until Lukas and Sofia returned, both a lot brighter than they had been before.

Then the dreaded dinner took place, and of course it wasn't as bad as I had expected. I could easily do exactly what Paul did, and all the attention went to Sofia, planning some activities for the coming week, including a visit to our house, and a shopping spree.

True to the spirit of his agreement with Sofia, Lukas left with us, he would not give her the chance to attach herself to him. When we got home it was very late, but we couldn't sleep, excitement held us up long past our usual bedtime, we were going to Greece! I could think of a thousand possible problems, a different culture, a hot climate, open use of magic, real life gods that interfered directly in people's lives, but I dismissed them, for now I was going to think of seeing the place where Lukas grew up, and meeting the people who had shaped his loving character.

The next weeks we were very busy, preparing for our trip. Paul and Lukas finished their commissions, installing boilers and pumps, teaching Mr Jones how to ride his bicycle. I was just as busy working, for somehow the news of our trip had gotten around and everyone wanted materials and sites checked and inspected.

I cycled through the whole city to oblige them, for we could use the money to fund our trip and besides, my former employer and colleagues had become something like friends, so I wanted to be of use to them. I'd miss that bicycle, but Lukas said they didn't have any roads in his world, so it'd be useless there.

Surprisingly, Paul's mother was going to take up his duties as guardian for the time of our absence, and he showed her around his quarter several times. Of course, George would be available too, he knew plenty of what was going on, and we introduced her to Tristan as well, another valuable contact.

Hermes had gone through the portal the day after we had taken off his shields, he could not afford to wait for us. After writing down the spell to transport from the demons' world to his own villa, he promised to come back in two weeks to accompany us.

It seemed unlikely to me that time would flow exactly the same in his world, making such an exact appointment a risk, but he was convinced he could do it, and since he was the god, we learned the spell by heart but still counted on having an escort through that frightening place.

The parting of father and son was emotional, even though they were going to meet again in two weeks, they embraced as if this was a goodbye for years and years.

'My son, I can never thank you enough for everything you have done for me. You saved my life, and now you're willing to save my people as well.' Lukas didn't say anything, he cried and kissed his father.

Paul got a hug from Hermes, and my father-in-law practically clung to me, he did remind me of Lukas so much, looking for love everywhere, not ashamed to show his feelings, fortunately by now I was no longer attracted to him at all.

Then he had to say farewell to George, a heart-rending moment, for it was not likely they would ever meet again. They stood wrapped up in each other's arms for a long time, talking in low voices, and when they finally parted, both were crying. George must be devastated, he had given his all to Hermes and the moment he was all right again, he left.

Now Hermes approached the portal, George held it upright, to make it easier to enter, and Hermes went in without any hesitation, face first to see what was coming. The rest of him followed quickly, and then he was gone.

My first thought was, that it was going to be a tight fit for me to get through that portal, as I've said before, I'm not exactly skinny, and that opening was rather small.

But of course that thought was cut short by the very real distress that George now showed at being left by someone he had come to love a lot.

He clearly showed his upbringing by not making a scene, and trying to hide his pain, but none of us were fooled, least of all Lukas. He must be feeling all of George's pain himself.

Frances was helpless here, of course the years had given her a certain love for her husband, raising four children together, sharing happiness and grief, and in the last few months, becoming a force for good within the city together, and to her Hermes must have been an intruder however open their marriage was, stealing her husband away from her by monopolizing all his time and energy, and by claiming all the love George could give.

But of course there was Lukas, his father had also taken his lover and his teacher away from him, for Lukas had not continued his lessons with George during his father's stay, I guessed their lessons had been largely based on physical loving, and Lukas was not sharing lovers with his father, he had made that very clear to me.

No-one but Lukas could be so forgiving. He knew how much George had wanted Hermes, and he was now more than ready to comfort George for his painful loss. Of course, Lukas had the two of us, and if George hadn't given Hermes the love he needed, it would probably have fallen to me to save him, I would not have been able to let him die for lack of love.

So in a way George had done us all a favour, and sacrificed his peace of mind for our good, and with Lukas to comfort him for his loss, I was certain he would be feeling much better within, say, an hour.

And so it happened indeed, in the next weeks, Lukas stayed with George every free second he had, and George often visited to watch him work.

Their renewed closeness did Lukas a lot of good, George had missed the enormous changes Lukas had gone through, but of course he must have found out the second Lukas touched his mind to console him, and he could guide Lukas spiritually, accepting the fact that he was probably turning into something much like a god, but also magically, helping him to develop his increasing talent even more, ruling it instead of being ruled by it, using his own power wisely, trying to find new sources of power.

The conversations they had whilst Lukas was at work showed that George was the ideal partner for Lukas in these times of change, his morals being those of our world, but his inclinations being similar to Lukas' own. Soon, I didn't see any signs of sadness in George anymore, I guess the challenge of guiding Lukas was a perfect distraction.

With George's help, Lukas had started to spread his healing to people he didn't know. When Lukas picked up great need somewhere, during one of his runs, or on his way to an installation with Paul, he would take George to the place and find the person in need and heal them. George acted as his anchor, and rarely as power plant, and these excursions caused Lukas to accept his destiny, as he called it, even further.

With our coming trip in mind, George insisted on both of us being included too, he taught both Paul and me how to best help Lukas in these cases, and because of my special ability to see through nearly everything, Lukas and I became an unbeatable team at solving the most desperate cases of physical and mental illness.

It was clear that a few months absence would be a good thing, for all of this had such a profound effect on Lukas that he lost much of his innocence, though no matter how much abject misery he experienced, he never lost his goodness.

Then one day, a week before we were planning to leave, Jonathan came back. He didn't write he was on his way, he just stood on our doorstep late one afternoon.

We were all in the workshop, and since Lukas and Paul were very busy with a difficult construction I was the one to open the door when a knock sounded, and saw him standing there, tired from his travels, but looking supremely healthy, taller, tanned and a lot less skinny than he used to be.

With a muffled cry we fell in each other's arms, and then I held him at arm's length and really looked at him. 'You look fine, a few weeks in the country have done wonders,' I said.

'My mother has been fattening me up, with pie, and cream, and everything I used to like as a child. They were so happy to see me, and very sad to see me go.' He hugged me again, he really seemed taller, and stronger.

'Come in,' I said, 'you must be tired and hungry, the guys are in the workshop, as soon as they've finished we're going to have dinner.' I led him into the workshop, where Lukas and Paul were still absorbed by their job, and called out: 'Look who's here!'

Paul looked up for a second, exclaimed: 'Jonathan! One second please, we'll be with you as soon as this stays together.'

Lukas never even looked up, but as soon as the job was done, he jumped Jonathan and crushed him to his chest. Then he did exactly what I did, he had to look up to Jonathan for he had indeed grown in two weeks, then held him at arm's length and observed: 'You're taller, and you look so healthy, you're almost fat!' Compared to Lukas, nearly everyone could be called fat, and Jonathan merely laughed happily to be so welcome.

Then Paul shook his hand, as guys do, and asked: 'Have you seen George and Frances yet?' Jonathan shook his head and replied: 'No, I came here straight away, my future is with you now.' But they just couldn't help it, a handshake was not enough, they had to hug too, Paul still taller and a lot broader, but Jonathan already handsome enough to break any girl's heart.

As Lukas and Paul busied themselves making dinner I took Jonathan upstairs to my apartment, to show him his living space. He wouldn't need to use the kitchen, he'd be eating with us of course, and he only had one bag with personal effects, so if he didn't mind I would keep my wardrobe there and some of my books.

I put clean sheets on the bed and cleared out one closet for his personal use, demonstrated the use of the shower and the privy, then took him back down for dinner. As we stood in front of the door to Paul's apartment I realized he had never seen it yet, it was always such fun to show people the Gothic palace for the first time.

And Jonathan did not disappoint in his reaction, he was as stunned as everyone I had ever seen, taking in the wonders of the actually rather small space.

Paul met him on the stairs to give him a personal tour, and I went into the kitchen to keep Lukas company. He was preparing one of his potato-feasts, very suitable for a young man who had travelled all day and who was undoubtedly very hungry.

As we sat down and dug in the food, Jonathan started the talking by telling about his reception at home and at his former patron's estate. Everyone had been over the moon to see him again, and he had been offered a good position on the estate, but as I had expected, he had politely refused, he knew he needed more challenge in his life and working magic was his life's dream which he had come back to fulfil

Two weeks at home had been a pleasant holiday, enjoying the nice weather, the good food and the interesting company of his parents' employer, the owner of the estate, who was intrigued with Jonathan's tale of black magic and heroism.

But after two weeks he started to get bored, wishing to get on with his studies, hoping to get answers to some questions he had worked up by the constant practising of the magics Paul had taught him.

Frankly, Jonathan seemed little interested in anything but magic, he just wanted to learn everything there was to know. Of course he admired the metalwork in Paul's apartment, but he didn't have the slightest need to do anything else with his life but practice magic.

With his story told, Jonathan was eager to hear how we had fared with Hermes, and Lukas told him how his father had slowly regained his health, and gone back through the portal a few days earlier, with the promise to return two weeks later to guide us to his world.

This was a shock to Jonathan, he had not expected his teacher and friends to go off to another world instead of continuing his teachings.

Paul said calmingly: 'Jonathan, we cannot do anything but take this trip, but I have thought of several alternatives for you. You can come with us, Lukas' world is based on magic, there will be plenty to learn there, though I cannot deny there will be some danger too, especially since you have not learned any offensive magics yet.

If you prefer to stay in the city and continue your studies, I have arranged with my parents that you can stay with them, they have a comfortable home where you can have your own room and do nothing but practice magic all day. They taught me, and they'll love teaching you, for you are just as talented and much more motivated to learn. My sister still lives with them, so you would not be the only young person there.

Or you could live here or with the Nomes' and let George and Tristan handle your education. They are of another tradition but I have a feeling you will not be limited by one tradition. They both know you and are eager to teach you.

We have a whole week left to decide what to do. In a way I think your education will be in all our hands anyway, for if I continue to teach you, you will pick up things from George and Tristan as well, and maybe even from Melissa's dad.

But whatever you decide, your education will not stop, you have years of learning ahead of you, don't worry.'

And in the following week it was clear that he was seriously considering his options, talking to George and Tristan, and visiting Paul's parents with us to get to know them.

Between finishing the commissions and inspecting sites, healing people in need, shopping with Sofia and working magic with Jonathan we were also fishing Lukas' brain for appropriate ways to dress, and other useful knowledge to prepare for our trip.

Unfortunately Lukas could tell us little about how magic functioned in his world, he had developed his skills here with us, he had never heard of ley-lines there, and he thought gods were more important than on our world. George knew some things Hermes had told him, but he had not thought of asking specifics, and anyway, Hermes was a god there so he had all the power and all the skills he needed at a given time.

With time moving quickly, we started packing, and planned one last visit, to my dad. But before we had found the time to cycle by his house, he visited us, alone.

Lukas was at home, but Jonathan was with the young crowd at the Nomes', the time he had spent with them had clearly formed a bond between them, and he loved to stay over for dinner with a little dancing afterwards.

I suspected Jonathan was not planning to come with us, he had had his share of adventures the last two years in the wasteland, he would probably elect to stay with the Nomes' and let George and Tristan handle his education for a few months, until Paul came back. But he had not told us anything officially yet, so we waited for him to tell us his decision.

Lukas let my dad in and took him straight into the house, of course taking the time to let him admire the interior first. Paul and I were pleasantly surprised to see him, we had been thinking of him but since we didn't know his work-schedule we were afraid to find my parents out.

We served him coffee and chocolates, and sat on the sofa together.

He took a good, long look at Lukas, and asked: 'So how is it going, my boy?' And Lukas didn't talk of trivialities, he just spoke plainly: 'All in all, Jakob, I'm doing rather well. It's still hard to keep a distance from everything I experience through others, but Melissa and Paul and George are very good at distracting me and keeping me sane.'

'Did I hear rightly that you are going to visit your home-world really soon? I ran into Tristan recently, he's asked me to sit on some new committee with nobles, and I thought it might benefit everyone involved if I did, so I said yes and spent some time on it, and afterwards, with him as well.'

Paul looked impressed, as was I, and Lukas answered the question: 'We are. Something has come up to make it important for me to go back there for a few months.'

'I suspect that will solve most of your current problems then, it'll do you a great deal of good, I'm sure. It's not for you that I've come, though I'm glad your dad's visit has brought you what I hoped it would.

The reason I came so shortly before your departure is that I need to talk to my son-in-law for a few minutes, alone. We did that just before your marriage ceremony on his instigation, and now I feel the need for a head-to-head. Will you oblige me, Paul?' My father looked at my beloved questioningly, and what could he do but nod and lead him to his workshop for a private chat?

It was very weird, but it was not as if he hadn't done weird things like this before without any warning or explanation up front.

Left behind, Lukas and I looked at one another helplessly. We hadn't shared love as often the last few days, we hadn't even spent much time together, George took up most of Lukas' time that didn't go into working or healing.

He held out his arms and I sat on his lap, my head resting against his chest, breathing in his musky scent, his arms wrapped around me and his face in my hair.

'We've been too busy,' Lukas said softly, 'things aren't right without your love.'

I knew I didn't need to say anything, he'd feel my response right through his new shields, and we sat together, silently, until Paul came back looking far from happy. I got up and wrapped my arms around him, and he held me tightly, then said: 'Your father wants to see you too, he's in the workshop.'

I waited for him to tell me why he was so affected, but he merely repeated: 'You're father wants to talk to you, better go see him.'

Feeling rebuffed, I walked away towards the stairs, and as I climbed it slowly I looked back into the living area. I saw Lukas still on the sofa, but with Paul now wrapped in his arms, as if he was comforting my strong, self-confident husband. What had my father told him?

I found my dad sitting on the bench in the workshop, and he patted the space beside him. When I wanted to ask him what he had told Paul, he said: 'Shush, love, it was nothing very bad, just something he didn't want to hear. But I thought he needed to be prepared.

And I have a similar warning for you. I know you share love with more ease than Paul, but you are still a child of this society, with its morals ingrained in your very being. You are going to another world altogether, with different customs and different rules, and you have no idea how it will work out.

Everything you think of as certain will be subject to change there, even those things that keep you stable and happy. You are going along to support Lukas, but actually I do not expect him to need much support there. The two of you however are going to find your world turned upside down, and I beg you, as I have begged Paul, to stay true to one another in spirit, and not offer the other judgement but instead be clear about the love you feel for him.

Please trust Lukas in matters of the heart, and keep talking, do not shut the other out.

I am done now, I wish you a very learning experience, and I hope Lukas will manage to resolve the trouble he needs to set to rights. I'll keep an eye on your young friend, set him up with one of our shields. Bye love!'

And with that he kissed me, and he left the workshop and the house.

I was left stunned. Whatever did he mean? Did he tell me something would come between Paul and me? That couldn't be, could it?

I practically ran downstairs, where Paul was still on Lukas' lap, still upset, and I sat next to them and held him too.

'Why do guys like your dad always talk in riddles?' Paul asked me, 'now he has me all upset, and nothing has even happened yet.'

Lukas squeezed him and said soothingly: 'And nothing will happen, I'll be with you all the time.'

Jonathan told us the next day that he preferred to stay safely in the city, and that George and Frances had invited him to stay with them. George and Tristan would teach him, with Paul's parents helping out if he got bored.

I was sad to leave him, but I was glad that he was staying, one less person to worry about. After waiting for two days for Hermes to show up, we decided to go through the portal by ourselves, and trust to the spell Hermes had given us to deliver us to his villa. Time probably did move totally differently in his world, and we'd find him at home just as easily.

So when the moment had come to enter the portal, we all had one large backpack with supplies, and we were getting pretty nervous. We had said our goodbyes to everyone present, including Jonathan.

Lukas would go first, as the best fighter and the person who knew where we'd end up. He had the gun stuck into his belt, and several cartridges in his pockets. Then I'd go, and Paul would be last.

We reminded ourselves that it would not be more dangerous than going to the real Greece, but that didn't help me much.

After sharing one last embrace, Lukas stuck his head into the portal fearlessly, as his father had done before him. Soon he was through and it was my turn.

Paul encouraged me with a: 'Your turn, love, see you soon!'

I stuck my head in the portal, taking my first breath and look around in an alien world.

Author's note

I hope you have enjoyed reading my story. I have been well-entertained writing it, and have read it countless times to correct it, to divide it in chapters logically, to make sure the facts and the action are continuous. And I still like reading it, which is why I actually wrote it, to enjoy myself.

This is the first story I've ever written that has sprung solely from my own mind. As stories usually do, it grew in the telling, and I soon regretted having chosen the first person point of view to write it, for every action had to be seen by Melissa herself, or told to her by someone else.

But I stuck to it, and I have not been sorry for it, for it taught me a lot.

The story originated in a work of art I made myself out of paper-maché, I am really attached to that piece, it was one of the first large things I ever made, and though my art has progressed since then, making it seem rather primitive by now, I still love it. I have often wondered what would happen if the goat-man would come out, and if he did, where he would have come from, and how he would fit in our society. That was the basis of Mirror bound.

I read a lot of fantasy, and I have the greatest respect for writers who can give their heroes and heroines massive character flaws and make their lives miserable in the most convoluted plots with explosive action, grave physical hurts and plot twists. I admire the way they can grab my attention and keep me in constant suspense, until I finally lay down the book, totally worn out.

That is not the kind of story I want to write myself, I enjoy the action, but I enjoy reading about the way people interact even more. I like Jane Austen and the Brönte sisters too, the strong emotions, the beautiful language.

Of course in those novels, people never seem to make love, but in contemporary fantasy they don't really, either. There, I often find myself irritated reading flowery descriptions of people finally getting together, making love without mentioning what they are actually doing, except that it is something of a higher order, instead of a natural urge that especially young people give in to pretty often.

And when they have found one another, the story usually ends, when in fact that moment is where it starts to get interesting. How will they fare together, will they stay connected, or drift apart, will they solve their small, or larger, difficulties, or will they wallow in self-pity and stop talking?

So that was what writing Mirror bound was all about, exploring the relationships people can develop who are thrown together by circumstances, the feelings they encounter, and have to conquer in some cases.

The characters have some flaws, but not really bad ones, they are flaws we all recognize in ourselves or someone we hold dear. And they are all looking for a bit of love, and reasonably well-disposed to other people.

I have come to love all of them, and they have really developed themselves, often doing things I didn't expect, making problems for me by changing everything. That was one of the most pleasant surprises in writing, that characters really do come to life, and decide by themselves how their lives will be lived.

Though it may seem that way, the characters aren't surpassingly beautiful either, of course they may see some of the others as such, but don't we all see the people we love best as being the most beautiful? I think most of us would not see Lukas as beautiful, a skinny, scrawny guy with a long, narrow face, and a mottled skin? But to Melissa he is beautiful, because he is one of those people whose inner light shines right through.

Of course there had to be some action, and some description of magic-use, but not too much, for in the end what matters is, how people interact, how they fall in love, what comes between them and what they do about it.

I'm already working on the follow-up, which does have a different viewpoint, for I was dying to find out at last what Paul and Lukas really think. And I was not disappointed, especially Lukas will go through a lot of changes, and has some important choices to make, and being able to see his view on everything is very interesting.

I hope you will continue to read, and I hope you will let me know what you think.


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